PS 

3302 

!F49 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELED 


Kibrrsfoe  ^Literature 


FINDING  A   HOME 


BY 


KATE   DOUGLAS   WIGGIN 


543 


BOSTON      NEW  YORK     CHICAGO      SAN  FRANCISCO 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,   1890,  BY  KATE  DOUGLAS  WIGGIN 

COPYRIGHT,  1894  AND  1907,  BY  HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


Cbe  Storsfot  $rt«« 

CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
PRINTED  IN  THE  U  .  S  .  A 


ro 

3301 


PUBLISHERS'   NOTE 

"FINDING  A  HOME  "  is  taken  from  Kate  Douglas 
Wiggin's  book  entitled  "  Timothy's  Quest."  The 
publishers  have  no  hesitation  in  presenting  this  de- 
lightful little  narrative  to  pupils  and  teachers,  for 
any  child  who  is  allowed  to  use  this  story  in  school 
will  have  a  pleasant  memory  of  the  reading  periods 
devoted  to  it,  and  will  never  forget  the  sturdy, 
uncomplaining  Timothy,  the  lively  little  Gay,  and 
the  faithful  Rags. 

Books  containing  dialect  are  no  longer  unfavor- 
ably regarded  by  public  school  authorities.  One 
mark  of  a  good  story  is  that  it  is  true  to  the  situa- 
tions involved,  and  it  would  be  wrong  to  deprive 
the  child  of  that  great  body  of  literature  contain- 
ing characterizations  of  people  whose  dialect  adds 
flavor  and  life  to  the  story.  As  an  aid  to  the 
teaching  of  English,  the  occasional  use  of  dialect 
will  reveal  to  the  pupil  provincialisms  and  sole- 
cisms in  his  own  speech,  which  being  thus  pointed 
out  are  readily  corrected. 

It  is  believed  that  this  story  may  be  read  with 
interest  and  profit  in  all  grades  of  the  elementary 
school  above  the  fourth.  High  school  students  also 
will  read  it  with  zest  and  appreciation. 


2132893 


CONTENTS 

SCENE  I  PAGE 

LITTLE  TIMOTHY  ASSUMES  PARENTAL  RESPONSIBILITIES  .       i 

SCENE  II 
TIMOTHY  PLANS  A  CAMPAIGN 9 

SCENE  III 
JABE  SLOCUM  ASSUMES  THE  PART  OF  GUARDIAN  ANGEL      20 

SCENE   IV 

TIMOTHY  FINDS  A  HOUSE  IN  WHICH  HE  THINKS  A  BABY 
IS  NEEDED,  BUT  THE  INMATES  DO  NOT  ENTIRELY  AGREE 

WITH   HIM 30 

SCENE  V 

TIMOTHY,  LADY  GAY,  AND  RAGS  PROVE  FAITHFUL  TO 
ONE  ANOTHER 37 

SCENE   VI 
TIMOTHY  RUNS  AWAY 47 

SCENE  VII 

THE  FAITHFUL  RAGS  GUIDES  Miss  VILDA  TO  HIS  LITTLE 
MASTER 58 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

PACK 

SAFE  ON  TIMOTHY'S  SHOULDER 6 

TIMOTHY  SURVEYING  THE  SITUATION 9 

"I  THINK  WE'LL  GO  THERE" 17 

"  WHICH  WAY  YER  COIN',  BUB  ? " 23 

"  THAT  MUST  BE  A  COUNTRY  DOORPLATE  " 28 

IN  THE  KITCHEN 33 

TIMOTHY  TELLING  HIS  STORY 35 

TIMOTHY  GOES  TO  SQUIRE  BEAN'S 39 

GAY'S  TOILET 44 

HOWLING  AT  THE  MOON 62 

HE  KNEW  MARIA 62 

TIMOTHY'S  QUEST  is  ENDED 66 


FINDING  A  HOME 

SCENE  I 

Number  Three,  Minerva  Court.  First  Floor  back 

LITTLE  TIMOTHY  ASSUMES  PARENTAL 
RESPONSIBILITIES 

POOR,  silly,  wayward  Flossy  Morison  was 
dead,  and  the  two  women  who  had  been 
watching  by  her  side  were  there  only  be- 
cause there  were  no  real  friends  to  mourn  her  loss. 
Mrs.  Flossy  Morison  had  not  used  her  life  in  such 
a  way  as  to  win  friendship,  and  now  there  was  no 
one  to  say  what  should  be  done  with  the  few  poor 
belongings  she  had  left  behind  her;  neither  was 
there  any  kind  heart  to  decide  what  was  happiest 
for  the  two  children  who  had  been  so  mysteriously 
dependent  upon  her  care.  Nobody  cared  from 
whence  they  came,  nor  whither  they  were  going ; 
so  the  two  watchers  had  hastily  agreed  to  take  the 
boy  to  the  nearest  orphan  asylum  and  the  baby  girl 
to  the  Home  of  the  Ladies'  Protection  and  Relief 
Society. 

When  the  loud  breathing  of  the  sleeping  women 
fell  on  the  stillness  of  the  chamber  beyond,  —  the 


2  FINDING  A   HOME 

chamber  in  which  Flossy  lay  so  strangely  still,  — 
a  quiet  figure  crept  out  of  the  bed  in  the  adjoin- 
ing room  and  closed  the  door  noiselessly  but  with 
trembling  fingers,  stealing  then  to  the  window  to 
look  out  at  the  dirty  street  and  the  gray  sky,  over 
which  the  first  faint  streaks  of  dawn  were  begin- 
ning to  creep. 

It  was  little  Timothy  Jessup,  but  not  the  very 
same  Tim  Jessup  who  had  kissed  the  baby  Gay  in 
her  crib,  and  gone  to  sleep  on  his  own  hard  bed 
in  that  room,  a  few  hours  before.  As  he  stood  shiv- 
ering at  the  window,  one  hand  pressed  upon  his 
heart  to  still  its  beating,  there  was  a  light  of  sud- 
den resolve  in  his  eyes,  a  new-born  anxiety  on  his 
unchildlike  face. 

"  I  will  not  have  Gay  protectioned  and  reliefed, 
and  I  will  not  be  taken  away  from  her  and  sent  to 
a  'sylum,  where  I  can  never  find  her  again  ! "  and 
with  these  defiant  words  trembling,  half  spoken,  on 
his  lips,  he  glanced  from  the  unconscious  form  in 
the  crib  to  the  cruel  door,  which  might  open  at  any 
moment  and  divide  him  from  his  heart's  delight, 
his  darling,  his  treasure,  his  own,  own  baby  Gay. 

But  what  should  he  do  ?  Run  away :  that  was  the 
only  solution  of  the  matter,  and  no  very  difficult 
one  either.  The  women  were  asleep ;  and  no  one 
else  in  Minerva  Court  cared  enough  for  him  to 
pursue  him  very  far  or  very  long. 

"And  so,"  thought  Timothy  swiftly,  "  I  will  get 


FINDING   A   HOME  3 

things  ready,  take  Gay,  and  steal  softly  out  of  the 
back  door,  and  run  away  to  the  'truly'  country, 
where  none  of  these  bad  people  ever  can  find  us, 
and  where  I  can  get  a  mother  for  Gay ;  somebody 
to  adopt  her  and  love  her  till  I  grow  up  a  man  and 
take  her  to  live  with  me." 

The  moment  this  thought  darted  into  Timothy's 
mind,  it  began  to  shape  itself  in  definite  action. 

Gabrielle,  or  Lady  Gay,  as  Flossy  always  called 
her,  in  honor  of  her  favorite  stage  heroine,  had 
been  tumbled  into  her  crib  half  dressed  the  night 
before.  The  only  vehicle  kept  for  her  use  in  the 
family  stables  was  a  clothes-basket,  mounted  on 
four  wooden  wheels  and  cushioned  with  a  dingy 
shawl.  A  yard  of  clothes-line  was  tied  to  one  end 
of  it,  and  in  this  humble  conveyance  the  Princess 
must  needs  be  transported  from  the  Ogre's  castle ; 
for  she  was  scarcely  old  enough  to  accompany  the 
Prince  on  foot,  even  if  he  had  dared  to  risk  detec- 
tion by  waking  her ;  so  the  clothes-basket  must 
be  her  chariot,  and  Timothy  her  charioteer,  as  on 
many  a  less  fateful  expedition. 

After  he  had  changed  his  ragged  nightgown  for 
a  shabby  suit  of  clothes,  he  took  Gay's  one  clean 
apron  out  of  a  rickety  bureau  drawer  ("  for  I  can 
never  find  a  mother  for  her  if  she 's  too  dirty,"  he 
thought),  her  Sunday  hat  from  the  same  receptacle, 
and  last  of  all  a  comb,  and  a  faded  Japanese  parasol 
that  stood  in  a  corner.  These  he  deposited  under 


4  FINDING  A   HOME 

the  old  shawl  that  decorated  the  floor  of  the  chariot 
He  next  groped  his  way  in  the  dim  light  towards 
a  mantel-shelf,  and  took  down  a  toy  savings-bank, 
—  a  florid  little  structure  with  "  Bank  of  England  " 
stamped  over  the  miniature  door,  into  which  the 
jovial  gentlemen  who  frequented  the  house  often 
slipped  pieces  of  silver  for  the  children. 

Now  for  provisions.  There  were  plenty  of  cookies 
in  the  kitchen,  and  he  hastily  gathered  a  dozen  of 
them  into  a  towel,  and  stowed  them  in  the  coach 
with  the  other  sinews  of  war. 

So  far,  well  and  good ;  but  the  worst  was  to 
come.  With  his  heart  beating  in  his  bosom  like  a 
trip-hammer,  and  his  eyes  dilated  with  fear,  he 
stepped  to  the  door  between  the  two  rooms,  and 
opened  it  softly.  Two  thundering  snores,  pitched 
in  such  different  keys  that  they  must  have  pro- 
ceeded from  two  separate  sets  of  nasal  organs,  reas- 
sured the  boy.  He  looked  out  into  the  alley.  "  Not 
a  creature  was  stirring,  not  even  a  mouse."  Satis- 
fied that  all  was  well,  Timothy  went  back  to  the 
bedroom,  and  lifted  the  battered  clothes-basket, 
trucks  and  all,  in  his  slender  arms,  carried  it  up 
the  alley  and  down  the  street  a  little  distance,  and 
deposited  it  on  the  pavement  beside  a  vacant  lot. 
This  done,  he  sped  back  to  the  house.  "How 
beautifully  they  snore  ! "  he  thought,  as  he  stood 
again  on  the  threshold.  "Shall  I  leave  'em  a 
letter  ?  .  .  .  P'raps  I  'd  better  ...  and  then  they 


FINDING  A  HOME  5 

won't  follow  us  and  bring  us  back."  So  he  scrib- 
bled a  line  on  a  bit  of  a  torn  paper  bag,  and  pinned 
it  on  the  enemies'  door. 

"  A  kind  Lady  is  goin  to  Adopt  us 
it  is  a  Grate  ways  off  so  do  not  Hunt 
good  by.  TIM." 

Now  all  was  ready.  No  ;  one  thing  more.  Timo- 
thy had  been  met  in  the  street  by  a  pretty  young 
girl  a  few  weeks  before.  The  love  of  God  was  smil- 
ing in  her  heart,  the  love  of  children  shining  in  her 
eyes ;  and  she  led  him,  a  willing  captive,  into  a  mis- 
sion Sunday  school  near  by. 

Thinking,  therefore,  of  Miss  Dora's  injunction  to 
pray  over  all  the  extraordinary  affairs  of  life  and  as 
many  of  the  ordinary  ones  as  possible,  he  hung  his 
tattered  straw  hat  on  the  bedpost,  and  knelt  beside 
Gay's  crib  with  this  whispered  prayer  :  — 

"  Our  Father,  who  art  in  heaven,  please  help  me  to 
find  a  mother  for  Gay,  one  that  she  can  call  Mamma, 
and  another  one  for  me,  if  there 's  enough,  but  not 
unless.  Please  excuse  me  for  taking  away  the  clothes- 
basket,  which  does  not  exactly  belong  to  us  ;  but  if 
I  do  not  take  it,  dear  heavenly  Father,  how  will  I 
get  Gay  to  the  railroad?  And  if  I  don  t  take  the 
Japanese  iimbrella  she  will  get  freckled,  and  nobody 
will  adopt  her  on  account  of  her  red  hair.  No  more 
at  present,  as  I  am  in  a  great  hurry.  Amen'' 


FINDING   A   HOME 


He  put  on  his  hat,  stooped  over  the  sleeping 
baby,  and  took  her  in  his  faithful  arms,  —  arms 
that  had  never  failed  her  yet.  She  half  opened  her 
eyes,  and  seeing  that  she  was 
safe  on  her  beloved  Timothy's 
shoulder,  clasped  her  dimpled 
arms  tight  about  his  neck,  and 
with  a  long  sigh  drifted  off 
again  into  the  land  of  dreams. 
Bending  beneath  her  weight, 
he  stepped  for  the  last  time 
across  the  threshold,  not  even 
daring  to  close  the  door  be- 
hind him. 

Up  the  alley  and  around  the 
corner  he  sped,  as  fast  as  his 
trembling  legs  could  carry  him. 
Just  as  he  was  within  sight  of 
the  goal  of  his  ambition,  that  is,  the  chariot  afore- 
said, he  fancied  he  heard  the  sound  of  hurrying  feet 
following  him.  To  his  fevered  imagination  the  tread 
was  like  that  of  an  avenging  army  on  the  track 
of  the  foe.  He  did  not  dare  to  look  behind.  On ! 
for  the  clothes-basket  and  liberty !  He  would  relin- 
quish the  Japanese  umbrella,  the  cookies,  the  comb, 
and  the  apron,  —  all  the  booty  in  fact,  —  as  an  in- 
ducement for  the  enemy  to  retreat,  but  he  would 
never  give  up  the  prisoner. 

On  the  feet  hurried,  faster  and  faster.  He  stooped 


Safe  on  Timothy's 
Shoulder 


FINDING   A   HOME  7 

to  put  Gay  in  the  basket,  and  turned  in  despair  to 
meet  his  pursuers,  when  a  little,  grimy,  rough-coated, 
lop-eared,  bob-tailed  thing,  like  an  animated  rag- 
bag, leaped  upon  his  knees,  whimpering  with  joy, 
and  imploring,  with  every  grace  that  his  simple 
doggish  heart  could  suggest,  to  be  one  of  the  elop- 
ing party. 

Rags  had  followed  them  ! 

Timothy  was  so  glad  to  find  it  no  worse  that  he 
wasted  a  moment  in  embracing  the  dog,  whose 
delirious  joy  at  the  prospect  of  this  probably  din- 
nerless  and  supperless  expedition  was  ludicrously 
exaggerated.  Then  he  took  up  the  rope  and  trundled 
the  chariot  gently  down  a  side  street  leading  to  the 
station. 

Everything  worked  to  a  charm.  They  met  only 
an  occasional  milkman  starting  on  his  rounds,  for 
it  was  now  four  o'clock,  and  a  sleepy  boy  or  two 
taking  down  the  shutters  of  a  grocery  shop,  but  the 
little  fugitives  were  troubled  with  no  questions  as 
to  their  intentions. 

And  so  they  went  out  into  the  world  together, 
these  three :  Timothy  Jessup,  brave  little  knight, 
nameless  nobleman,  tracing  his  descent  back  to 
God,  the  Father  of  us  all,  and  bearing  the  Divine 
likeness  more  than  most  of  us;  the  tiny  Lady 
Gay  —  somebody  —  nobody  —  anybody,  —  from 
nobody  knows  where,  —  destination  equally  uncer- 
tain ; %  and  Rags,  of  pedigree  most  doubtful,  but  a 


8  FINDING  A   HOME 

perfect  gentleman,  true-hearted  and  loyal  to  the 
core,  —  in  fact,  an  angel  in  fur.  These  three,  with 
the  clothes-basket  as  personal  property  and  the 
Bank  of  England  as  security,  went  out  to  seek  their 
fortune ;  and,  unlike  Lot's  wife,  without  daring  to 
look  behind,  shook  the  dust  of  Minerva  Court  from 
off  their  feet  forever  and  forever. 


SCENE  II 

The  Railway  Station 
TIMOTHY  PLANS  A  CAMPAIGN 

BY    dint    of    skillful    generalship,  Timothy 
gathered  his  forces  on  a  green  bank  just 
behind  the  railway  station,  cleared  away  a 
sufficient  number  of  tin  cans  and  oyster-shells  to 
make  a  flat  space  for  the  chariot  of  war,  which  had 
now  become  simply  a  cradle,  and  sat  down,  with 
Rags  curled  up  at  his  feet,  to  plan  the  campaign. 


Timothy  surveying  the  Situation 


He  pushed  back  the  ragged  hat  from  his  waving 
hair,  and,  clasping  his  knee  with  his  hands,  gazed 
thoughtfully  at  the  towering  chimneys  in  the  fore- 
ground and  the  white-winged  ships  in  the  distant 


io  FINDING  A  HOME 

harbor.  There  was  a  glimpse  of  something  like  a 
man's  purpose  in  the  sober  eyes  ;  and  as  the  morn- 
ing sunlight  fell  upon  his  earnest  face,  the  angel 
in  him  came  to  the  surface,  and  crowded  the  boy 
part  quite  out  of  sight,  as  it  has  a  way  of  doing 
sometimes  with  children. 

How  some  father-heart  would  have  throbbed  with 
pride  to  own  him,  and  how  gladly  lifted  the  too 
heavy  burden  from  his  childish  shoulders  ! 

Timothy  Jessup,  aged  ten  or  eleven,  or  there- 
abouts, Timothy  Jessup,  somewhat  ragged,  all  for- 
lorn, and  none  too  clean  at  the  present  moment, 
was  a  boy  of  strange  notions,  and  the  vocabu- 
lary in  which  he  expressed  them  was  stranger 
still ;  furthermore,  he  had  gentle  manners,  which 
must  have  been  indigenous,  as  they  had  certainly 
never  been  cultivated  ;  and  although  he  had  been 
in  the  way  of  handling  pitch  for  many  a  day,  it  had 
been  helpless  to  defile  him,  such  was  the  essential 
purity  of  his  nature. 

To  find  a  home  and  a  mother  for  Lady  Gay 
had  been  Timothy's  secret  longing  ever  since  he 
had  heard  people  say  that  Flossy  might  die.  He  had 
once  enjoyed  all  the  comforts  of  a  Home  with  a 
capital  H  ;  but  it  was  the  cosy  one  with  the  little 
"  h  "  that  he  so  much  desired  for  her. 

Not  that  he  had  any  ill  treatment  to  remember 
in  the  excellent  institution  of  which  he  was  for 


FINDING   A   HOME  n 

several  years  an  inmate.  The  matron  was  an  ami- 
able and  hard-working  woman,  who  wished  to  do 
her  duty  to  all  the  children  under  her  care  ;  but  it 
would  be  an  inspired  human  being  indeed  who 
could  give  a  hundred  and  fifty  motherless  or  father- 
less children  all  the  education  and  care  and  train- 
ing they  needed,  to  say  nothing  of  the  love  that 
they  missed  and  craved.  What  wonder,  then,  that 
an  occasional  hungry  little  soul  starved  for  want  of 
something  not  provided  by  the  management ;  say, 
a  morning  cuddle  in  father's  bed  or  a  ride  on 
father's  knee,  —  in  short,  the  sweet  daily  jumble 
of  lap-trotting,  gentle  caressing,  endearing  words, 
twilight  stories,  motherly  tucks-in-bed,  good-night 
kisses,  —  all  the  dear,  simple,  every-day  accompa- 
niments of  the  home  with  the  little  "  h." 

Timothy  Jessup,  bred  in  such  an  atmosphere, 
would  have  gladdened  every  life  that  touched  his 
at  any  point.  Plenty  of  wistful  men  and  women 
would  have  thanked  God  nightly  on  their  knees 
for  the  gift  of  such  a  son ;  and  here  he  was,  sit- 
ting on  a  tin  can,  bowed  down  with  family  cares, 
not  knowing  under  what  roof  he  should  sleep  that 
night. 

As  for  the  tiny  Lady  Gay,  she  had  all  the  win- 
some virtues  to  recommend  her.  No  one  ever  feared 
that  she  would  die  young  out  of  sheer  goodness. 
You  would  not  have  loved  her  so  much  for  what  she 


12  FINDING  A  HOME 

was  as  because  you  could  not  help  yourself.  This 
feat  once  accomplished,  she  blossomed  into  a  thou- 
sand graces,  each  one  more  bewitching  than  the 
last  you  noted. 

Where  did  the  child  get  her  sunshiny  nature  ? 
Born  in  wretchedness  and  poverty,  she  had  brought 
her  "radiant  morning  visions  "  with  her  into  the 
world. 

What  if  the  room  were  desolate  and  bare  ?  The 
yellow  sunbeams  stole  through  the  narrow  window, 
and  in  the  shaft  of  light  they  threw  across  the 
dusty  floor  Gay  played,  —  oblivious  of  everything 
save  the  flickering  golden  rays  that  surrounded 
her. 

The  raindrops  chasing  each  other  down  the  dingy 
pane,  the  snowflakes  melting  softly  on  the  case- 
ment, the  brown  leaf  that  the  wind  blew  into  her 
lap  as  she  sat  on  the  sidewalk,  the  chirp  of  the  little 
beggar-sparrows  over  the  cobblestones,  all  these 
brought  as  eager  a  light  into  her  baby  eyes  as  the 
costliest  toy.  With  no  earthly  father  or  mother  to 
care  for  her,  she  seemed  to  be  God's  special  charge, 
and  He  amused  her  in  his  own  good  way ;  first,  by 
locking  her  happiness  within  her  own  soul  (the  only 
place  where  it  is  ever  safe  for  a  single  moment),  and 
then  by  putting  her  under  Timothy's  paternal  minis- 
trations. 

Timothy's  mind  traveled  back  over  the  past,  as 


FINDING   A   HOME  13 

he  sat  among  the  tin  cans  and  looked  at  Rags  and 
Gay.  It  was  a  very  small  story,  if  he  ever  found  any 
one  who  would  care  to  hear  it.  There  was  a  long 
journey  in  a  great  ship,  a  wearisome  illness  of  many 
weeks,  —  or  was  it  months  ?  —  when  his  curls  had 
been  cut  off,  and  all  his  memories  with  them ;  then 
there  was  the  Home  ;  then  there  was  Flossy,  who 
came  to  take  him  away ;  and  then  oh,  bright,  bright 
spot !  oh,  blessed  time ! — there  was  baby  Gay ;  then, 
last  of  all,  there  was  Minerva  Court.  But  he  did 
not  give  many  minutes  to  reminiscence.  He  first 
broke  open  the  toy  Bank  of  England,  and  threw  it 
away,  after  finding  to  his  joy  that  their  fortune 
amounted  to  one  dollar  and  eighty-five  cents.  This 
was  so  much  in  advance  of  his  expectations  that  he 
laughed  aloud ;  and  Rags,  wagging  his  tail  with  such 
vigor  that  he  nearly  broke  it  in  two,  jumped  into 
the  cradle  and  woke  the  baby. 

Then  there  was  a  happy  family  circle,  you  may 
believe  me,  and  with  good  reason,  too !  A  trip  to 
the  country  (meals  and  lodging  uncertain,  but  that 
was  a  trifle),  a  sight  of  green  meadows  where  Tim 
would  hear  real  birds  sing  in  the  trees,  and  Gay 
would  gather  wild  flowers,  and  Rags  would  chase, 
and  perhaps  —  who  knows?  —  catch,  toothsome 
squirrels  and  fat  little  field-mice,  of  which  the  coun- 
try dogs  visiting  Minerva  Court  had  told  the  most 
mouth-watering  tales.  Gay's  transport  knew  no 


i4  FINDING   A   HOME 

bounds.  Her  child-heart  felt  no  regret  for  the  past, 
no  care  for  the  present,  no  anxiety  for  the  future. 
The  only  world  she  cared  for  was  in  her  sight ;  and 
she  had  never,  in  her  brief  experience,  gazed  upon 
it  with  more  radiant  anticipation  than  on  this  sunny 
June  morning,  when  she  had  opened  her  bright 
eyes  on  a  pleasant,  odorous  bank  of  oyster-shells, 
instead  of  on  the  accustomed  surroundings  of  Min- 
erva Court. 

Breakfast  was  first  in  order. 

There  was  a  pump  conveniently  near,  and  the  oys- 
ter-shells made  capital  cups.  Gay  had  three  cook- 
ies, Timothy  two,  and  Rags  one ;  but  there  was  no 
statute  of  limitations  placed  on  the  water ;  every 
one  had  as  much  as  he  could  drink. 

The  little  matter  of  toilets  came  next.  Timothy 
took  the  dingy  rag  which  did  duty  for  a  handker- 
chief, and  calling  the  pump  again  into  requisi- 
tion, scrubbed  Gay's  face  and  hands  tenderly  but 
firmly.  Her  clothes  were  then  all  smoothed  down 
tidily,  but  the  clean  apron  was  kept  for  the  event- 
ful moment  when  her  future  mother  should  first 
be  allowed  to  behold  the  form  of  her  adopted 
child. 

The  comb  was  then  brought  out,  and  her  mop 
of  red-gold  hair  was  assisted  to  fall  in  wet  spirals 
all  over  her  lovely  head,  which  always  "wiggled" 
too  much  for  any  more  formal  style  of  hair-dressing 


FINDING   A   HOME  15 

Her  Sunday  hat  being  tied  on  as  the  crowning 
glory,  this  lucky  little  princess,  this  child  of  For- 
tune, so  inestimably  rich  in  her  own  opinion,  was 
returned  to  the  clothes-basket  in  which  she  had 
begun  her  journey,  and  there  she  endeavored  to 
keep  quiet  until  the  next  piece  of  delightful  un- 
expectedness should  rise  from  fairy-land  upon  her 
excited  gaze. 

Timothy  and  Rags  now  went  to  the  pump,  and 
Rags  was  held  under  the  spout.  This  was  a  new 
and  bitter  experience,  and  he  wished  for  a  few  brief 
moments  that  he  had  never  joined  the  noble  army 
of  deserters,  but  had  stayed  where  dirt  was  fashion- 
able. Being  released,  the  sense  of  abnormal  clean- 
liness mounted  to  his  brain,  and  he  tore  breathlessly 
around  in  a  circle  seventy-seven  times  without  stop- 
ping. But  this  only  dried  his  hair  and  amused  Gay, 
who  was  beginning  to  find  the  basket  confining, 
and  who  clamored  for  "  Timfy "  to  take  her  to 
"yide."  Timothy  attended  to  himself  last,  as  usual. 
He  put  his  own  head  under  the  pump,  and  scrubbed 
his  face  and  hands  heartily ;  then  he  combed  his  hair, 
pulled  up  his  stockings  and  tied  his  shoes  neatly, 
buttoned  his  jacket  closely  over  his  shirt,  and  was 
just  pinning  up  the  rent  in  his  hat,  when  Rags  con- 
siderately brought  another  suggestion  in  the  shape 
of  an  old  chicken-wing,  with  which  Tim  brushed 
every  speck  of  dust  from  his  clothes.  This  done. 


1 6  FINDING   A   HOME 

and  being  no  respecter  of  persons,  he  took  the 
family  comb  to  Rags,  who  woke  the  echoes  during 
the  operation,  and  hoped  that  the  squirrels  would 
run  slowly  and  that  the  field-mice  would  be  very 
tender,  to  pay  him  for  this. 

It  was  now  nearly  eight  o'clock,  and  the  party 
descended  the  hillside  and  entered  the  side  door  of 
the  station. 

The  day's  work  had  long  since  begun,  and  there 
was  the  usual  din  and  uproar  of  railroad  traffic. 
Trucks,  laden  high  with  boxes  and  barrels,  were 
being  driven  to  the  wide  doors,  and  porters  were 
thundering  and  thumping  and  lurching  the  freight 
from  one  set  of  cars  into  another ;  their  primary 
object  being  to  make  a  racket  and  demolish  raw 
material,  thereby  increasing  manufacture  and  ex- 
port, but  incidentally  to  load  or  unload  as  much 
freight  as  possible  in  a  given  time. 

Timothy  entered,  trundling  his  carriage,  where 
Lady  Gay  sat  enthroned  like  a  fashionable  belle  on 
a  dog-cart,  conscious  pride  of  Sunday  hat  on  week- 
day morning  exuding  from  every  feature ;  and  Rags 
followed  close  behind,  clean,  but  with  a  crushed 
spirit,  which  he  could  stimulate  only  by  the  most 
delightful  imaginations.  No  one  molested  them,  for 
Timothy  was  very  careful  not  to  get  in  any  one's 
way.  Finally,  he  drew  up  in  front  of  a  high  black- 
board, on  which  the  names  of  various  way-stations 
were  printed  in  gold  letters. 


S* 

'.OA...  ^^ 


FINDING  A   HOME  17 

"The  names  get  nicer  and 
nicer  as  you  read  down  the  line, 
and  the  furtherest  one  of  all  is 
the  very  prettiest,  so  I  think  we  '11 
go  there,"  thought  Timothy,  not 
realizing  that  his  choice  was  based 
on  most  insecure  foundations ;  and 
that,  for  aught  he  knew,  the  milk 
of  human  kindness  might  have 
more  cream  on  it  at  Scratch 
Corner  than  at  Pleas- 
ant River,  though  the 
latter  name  was  cer- 
tainly more  attractive. 
Gay  approved  of 


"  /  think  vie  '8  go  there  " 

Pleasant  River,  and  so  did  Rags;  and  Timothy  moved 
off  down  the  station  to  a  place  on  the  open  platform 
where  a  train  of  cars  stood  ready  for  starting,  the 
engine  at  the  head  gasping  and  puffing  and  breath- 
ing as  hard  as  if  it  had  an  acute  attack  of  asthma. 


1 8  FINDING  A   HOME 

"  How  much  does  it  cost  to  go  to  Pleasant  River, 
please  ?  "  asked  Tim,  boldly,  of  a  kind-looking  man 
in  a  blue  coat  and  brass  buttons,  who  stood  by  the 
cars. 

"This  is  a  freight  train,  sonny,"  replied  the 
man  ;  "  takes  four  hours  to  get  there.  Better  wait 
till  10.45  J  buy  your  ticket  up  in  the  station." 

"  10.45  • "  Tim  saw  visions  of  Mrs.  Simmons 
speeding  down  upon  him  in  hot  pursuit,  kindled 
by  Gay's  disappearance  into  an  appreciation  of  her 
charms. 

The  tears  stood  in  his  eyes  as  Gay  clambered 
out  of  the  basket,  and  danced  with  impatience,  ex- 
claiming, "  Gay  wants  to  yide  now  !  yide  now  !  yide 
now." 

"  Did  you  want  to  go  sooner  ? "  asked  the  man,  who 
seemed  to  be  entirely  too  much  interested  in  human- 
ity to  succeed  in  the  railroad  business.  "  Well,  as  you 
seem  to  have  consid'rable  of  a  family  on  your  hands, 
I  guess  we  '11  take  you  along.  Jim,  unlock  that  car 
and  let  these  children  in,  and  then  lock  it  up  again. 
It 's  a  car  we  're  taking  up  to  the  end  of  the  road 
for  repairs,  bubby,  so  the  comp'ny  '11  give  you  and 
your  folks  a  free  ride  ! " 

Timothy  thanked  the  man  in  his  politest  manner, 
and  Gay  pressed  a  piece  of  moist  cooky  into  his  hand, 
and  offered  him  one  of  her  swan's-down  kisses,  a 
favor  of  which  she  was  usually  as  chary  as  if  it  had 
possessed  a  market  value. 


FINDING  A   HOME  19 

"  Are  you  going  to  take  the  dog  ?  "  asked  the  man, 
as  Rags  darted  up  the  steps  with  sniffs  and  barks 
of  ecstatic  delight.  "  He  ain't  so  handsome  but  you 
can  get  another  easy  enough  !  "  (Rags  held  his 
breath  in  suspense,  and  wondered  if  he  had  been 
put  under  a  roaring  cataract,  and  then  plowed  in 
deep  furrows  with  a  sharp-toothed  instrument  of 
torture,  only  to  be  left  behind  at  last !) 

"  That 's  just  why  I  take  him,"  said  Timothy ; 
"  because  he  is  n't  handsome  and  has  nobody  else 
to  love  him." 

("  Not  a  very  polite  reason,"  thought  Rags  ;  "  but 
anything  to  go  ! ") 

"  Well,  jump  in,  dog  and  all,  and  they  '11  give  you 
the  best  free  ride  to  the  country  you  ever  had  in 
your  life !  Tell  'em  it 's  all  right,  Jim  ; "  and  the 
train  steamed  out  of  the  depot,  while  the  kind  man 
waved  his  bandana  handkerchief  until  the  children 
were  out  of  sight 


.        „• 


SCENE  III 

Pleasant  River 

JABE  SLOCUM  ASSUMES  THE  PART  OF  GUARDIAN 
ANGEL 

JABE  SLOCUM  had  been  down  to  Edgewood, 
and  was  just  returning  to  the  White  Farm, 
by  way  of  the  cross-roads  and  Hard  Scrabble 
school-house.  He  was  in  no  hurry,  though  he 
always  had  more  work  on  hand  than  he  could  leave 
undone  for  a  month  ;  and  Maria  also  was  taking  her 
own  time,  as  usual,  even  stopping  now  and  then  to 
crop  an  unusually  sweet  tuft  of  grass  that  grew 
within  smelling  distance,  and  which  no  mare  with  a 
driver  like  Jabe  could  afford  to  pass  without  notice. 
Jabe  was  ostensibly  out  on  an  errand  for  Miss 
Avilda  Cummins ;  but,  as  he  had  been  in  her  service 
for  six  years,  she  had  no  expectations  of  his  accom- 
plishing anything  beyond  getting  to  a  place  and 
getting  back  in  the  same  day,  the  distance  covered 
being  no  factor  at  all  in  the  matter. 

But  one  need  not  go  to  Miss  Avilda  Cummins  for 
a  description  of  Jabe  Slocum's  peculiarities.  They 
were  all  so  written  upon  his  face  and  figure  and 
speech  that  the  wayfaring  man,  though  a  fool,  could 
not  err  in  his  judgment.  He  was  a  long,  loose,  knock- 


FINDING   A   HOME  21 

kneed,  slack-twisted  person,  and  would  have  been 
"  longer  yet  if  he  had  n't  had  so  much  turned  up 
for  feet,"  —  so  Aunt  Hitty  Tarbox  said.  (Aunt 
Hitty  went  from  house  to  house  in  Edgewood  and 
Pleasant  River,  making  over  boy's  clothes ;  and  as 
her  tongue  flew  as  fast  as  her  needle,  her  sharp 
speeches  were  always  in  circulation  in  both  villages.) 

Mr.  Slocum  had  sandy  hair,  high  cheek-bones, 
a  pair  of  kindly  blue  eyes,  and  a  most  unique  nose  : 
it  is  hard  to  say  to  what  order  of  architecture  it  be- 
longed, —  perhaps  Old  Colonial  would  describe  it 
as  well  as  anything  else.  It  was  a  wide,  flat,  well- 
ventilated,  hospitable  edifice  (so  to  speak),  so  pecul- 
iarly constructed  and  applied  that  Samantha  Ann 
Ripley  declared  that  "  the  reason  Jabe  Slocum 
ketched  cold  so  easy  was  that,  if  he  did  n't  hold 
his  head  jest  so,  it  kep'  a-rainin'  in  on  him ! " 

His  mouth  was  simply  an  enormous  opening  in 
his  face,  and  served  all  the  purposes  for  which  a 
mouth  is  presumably  intended,  save,  perhaps,  the 
trivial  one  of  decoration. 

As  Jabe  had  passed  the  store,  a  few  minutes 
before,  one  of  the  boys  had  called  out  facetiously, 
"  Shut  yer  mouth  when  ye  go  by  the  deepot,  Laigs ; 
the  train  's  comin'  in  !  "  But  he  only  smiled  placidly, 
though  it  was  an  ancient  joke,  the  flavor  of  which 
had  just  fully  penetrated  the  rustic  skull,  and  the 
villagers  could  not  resist  jogging  the  sense  of 
humor  with  it  once  or  twice  a  month. 


22  FINDING  A   HOME 

Jabe  was  a  man  of  tolerable  education  ;  the  only 
son  of  his  parents,  who  had  endeavored  to  make 
great  things  of  him,  and  might  perhaps  have 
succeeded,  if  he  had  not  always  had  so  little  time 
at  his  disposal,  —  had  n't  been  "  so  drove,"  as  he 
expressed  it.  He  went  to  the  village  school  as 
regularly  as  he  could  n't  help,  that  is,  as  many  days 
as  he  could  n't  contrive  to  stay  away,  until  he  was 
fourteen.  From  there  he  was  sent  to  the  Academy, 
three  miles  distant ;  but  his  mother  soon  found 
that  he  could  not  make  the  two  trips  a  day  and 
be  "  under  cover  by  candlelight ; "  so  the  plan  of 
a  classical  education  was  abandoned,  and  he  was 
allowed  to  speed  the  home  plow,  —  a  profession 
which  he  pursued  with  such  moderation  that  his 
father,  when  starting  him  down  a  furrow  in  the 
morning,  used  to  hang  his  dinner-pail  on  his  arm, 
and,  bidding  him  good-by,  beg  him,  with  tears  in 
his  eyes,  to  be  back  before  sundown. 

At  the  present  moment  Jabe  was  enjoying  a  quid 
of  old  Virginia  plug  tobacco,  and  taking  in  no  more 
of  the  landscape  than  he  could  avoid,  when  Maria, 
having  wound  up  to  the  top  of  Berry's  hill  in  spite 
of  herself,  walked  directly  out  on  one  side  of  the 
road,  and  stopped  short  to  make  room  for  the  pas- 
sage of  an  imposing  procession,  made  up  of  one 
straw  phaeton,  one  baby,  one  strange  boy,  and  one 
strange  dog. 

Jabe  eyed  the  party  with  some  placid  interest. 


FINDING   A   HOME 


A 


for  he  loved  children,  but  with  no  undue  excitement. 

Shifting  his  huge  quid,  he  inquired  in  his  usual 
leisurely  manner,  "  Which  way 
yer  goin',  bub, — to  the  Swamp 
or  to  the  Falls?" 

Timothy  thought  neither 
sounded  especially  inviting, 
but,  rapidly  choosing  the  lesser 
evil,  replied,  "To  the  Falls, 
sir." 

"Thy    way    hap- 
pens to  be  my  way, 

's     Ruth     said     to 

Naomi ;  so  if  gittin' 

over  the  road 's  your 

objeck,   'n'   y'   ain't 

pertickler  'baout  the 

gait    ye    travel,   ye 

can  git   in    'n'  ride 

a  piece.     We  don't 

b'lieve   in  hurryin', 

Mariar  'n'  me.    Slow  'n'  easy  goes  fur  in  a  day,  's 

our  motto.    Can  ye  git  your  folks  aboard  withaout 

spill  in'  any  of  'em  ?  " 

No  wonder  he  asked,  for  Gay  was  in  such  a  wild 

state  of  excitement  that  she  could  hardly  be  held, 
"  I  can  lift  Gay  up,  if   you  '11  please  take  her, 

sir,"  said  Timothy  ;  "and  if  you  're  quite  sure  the 

horse  will  stand  still." 


Which  way  yer  goti 


24  FINDING   A   HOME 

"  Bless  your  soul,  she  "11  stan'  all  right ;  she  likes 
stan'in'  a  heap  better  'n  she  does  goin' ;  runnin' 
away  ain't  no  temptation  to  Maria  Cummins;  let 
well  enough  alone  's  her  motto.  Jump  in,  sissy ! 
There  ye  be !  Now  git  yer  baby  shay  in  the  back  of 
the  wagon,  bubby,  'n'  we  '11  be  's  snug 's  eggs  in  a 
nest." 

Timothy,  whose  creed  was  simple  and  whose 
beliefs  were  crystal  clear,  now  felt  that  his  morning 
prayer  had  been  heard ;  so  he  abandoned  all  idea 
of  commanding  the  situation,  and  gave  himself  up 
to  the  full  ecstasy  of  the  ride,  as  they  jogged  peace- 
fully along  the  river  road. 

Gay  held  a  piece  of  a  rein  that  peeped  from  Jabe's 
colossal  hand  and  was  convinced  that  she  was  driv- 
ing Maria,  an  idea  that  made  her  speechless  with  joy. 

Rags'  wildest  dreams  of  squirrels  came  true  ; 
and,  reconciled  at  length  to  cleanliness,  he  was 
capering  in  and  out  of  the  woods,  thinking  what  an 
Arabian  Nights'  entertainment  he  would  give  the 
Minerva  Court  dogs  when  he  returned,  if  return  he 
ever  must  to  that  miserable,  squirrelless  hole. 

The  meadows  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  were 
gorgeous  with  yellow  buttercups,  and  here  and  there 
a  patch  of  blue  iris  or  wild  sage.  The  black  cherry 
trees  were  masses  of  snowy  bloom ;  the  water  at 
the  river's  edge  held  spikes  of  blue  arrowweed  in 
its  crystal  shallows ;  while  the  roadside  itself  was 
gay  with  daisies  and  feathery  grasses. 


FINDING   A   HOME  25 

Suddenly  (a  word  that  could  seldom  be  truthfully 
applied  to  the  description  of  Jabe  Slocum's  move- 
ments) the  reins  were  ruthlessly  drawn  from  Lady 
Gay's  hands  and  wound  about  the  whipstock. 

"There!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Slocum,  "ef  I  hain't 
left  the  widder  Foss  settin'  on  Aunt  Kitty's  hoss- 
block,  'n'  I  promised  to  pick  her  up  when  I  come 
along  back !  That  all  comes  o'  my  drivin'  by  the 
store  so  fast  on  account  o'  the  boys  hectorin'  of  me, 
so't  when  I  got  to  the  turn  I  was  so  kind  of  nerved 
up  I  jogged  right  along  the  straight  road.  Haste 
makes  waste  's  an  awful  good  motto.  Pile  out,  young 
ones !  It 's  only  half  a  mile  from  here  to  the  Falls, 
'n'  you  '11  have  to  get  there  on  shank's  mare ! " 

So  saying,  he  dumped  the  astonished  children 
into  the  middle  of  the  road,  from  whence  he  had 
plucked  them,  turned  the  docile  mare,  and  with  a 
"  Git,  Mariar ! "  went  four  miles  back  to  relieve 
Aunt  Kitty's  horse-block  from  the  weight  of  the 
widder  Foss. 

This  turn  of  affairs  was  most  unexpected,  and 
Gay  seemed  on  the  point  of  tears ;  but  Timothy 
gathered  her  a  handful  of  wild  flowers,  wiped  the 
dust  from  her  face,  put  on  the  clean  blue  gingham 
apron,  and  established  her  in  the  basket,  where  she 
soon  fell  asleep,  wearied  by  the  excitements  of  the 
day. 

Timothy's  heart  began  to  be  a  little  troubled 
as  he  walked  on  and  on  through  the  leafy  woods, 


26  FINDING   A   HOME 

trundling  the  basket  behind  him.  Nothing  had  gone 
wrong;  indeed,  everything  had  been  much  easier 
than  he  could  have  hoped.  Perhaps  it  was  the  weari- 
ness that  had  crept  into  his  legs,  and  the  hollow- 
ness  that  began  to  appear  in  his  stomach;  but, 
somehow,  although  in  the  morning  he  had  expected 
to  find  adopted  mothers  beckoning  from  every  win- 
dow, so  that  he  could  scarcely  choose  between  them, 
he  now  felt  as  if  the  whole  race  of  mothers  had 
suddenly  become  extinct. 

Soon  the  village  came  in  sight,  nestled  in  the 
laps  of  the  green  hills  on  both  sides  of  the  river. 
Timothy  trudged  bravely  on,  scanning  all  the 
dwellings,  but  finding  none  of  them  just  the  thing. 
At  last  he  turned  deliberately  off  the  main  road, 
where  the  houses  seemed  too  near  together  and  too 
near  the  street  for  his  taste,  and  trundled  his  fam- 
ily down  a  shady  sort  of  avenue,  over  which  the 
arching  elms  met  and  clasped  hands. 

Rags  had  by  this  time  lowered  his  tail  to  half- 
mast,  and  kept  strictly  to  the  beaten  path,  not- 
withstanding manifold  temptations  to  forsake  it. 
He  passed  two  cats  without  a  single  insulting  re- 
mark, and  his  entire  demeanor  was  eloquent  of 
homesickness. 

"  Oh,  dear ! "  sighed  Timothy  disconsolately  ; 
"there's  something  wrong  with  all  the  places. 
Either  there 's  no  pigeon-house,  like  in  all  the  pic- 
tures or  no  flower  garden,  or  no  chickens,  or  no 


FINDING  A   HOME  27 

lady  at  the  window,  or  else  there 's  lots  of  baby- 
clothes  hanging  on  the  wash-lines.  I  don't  believe 
I  shall  ever  find  "  — 

At  this  moment  a  large,  comfortable  white  house, 
that  had  been  heretofore  hidden  by  great  trees, 
came  into  view.  Timothy  drew  nearer  to  the  spot- 
less picket  fence,  and  gazed'  upon  the  beauties  of 
the  side  yard  and  the  front  garden,  —  gazed  and 
gazed,  and  fell  desperately  in  love  at  first  sight. 

The  whole  thing  had  been  made  as  if  to  order; 
that  is  all  there  is  to  say  about  it.  There  was  an 
orchard,  and,  oh,  ecstasy !  what  hosts  of  green  ap- 
ples !  There  was  an  interesting  grindstone  under 
one  tree,  and  a  bright  blue  chair  and  stool  un- 
der another ;  a  thicket  of  currant  and  gooseberry 
bushes ;  and  a  flock  of  young  turkeys  ambling  awk- 
wardly through  the  barn.  Timothy  stepped  gently 
along  in  the  thick  grass,  past  a  pump  and  a  mossy 
trough,  till  a  side  porch  came  into  view,  with  a 
woman  sitting  there  sewing  bright-colored  rags.  A 
row  of  shining  tin  pans  caught  the  sun's  rays,  and 
threw  them  back  in  a  thousand  glittering  prisms 
of  light ;  the  grasshoppers  and  crickets  chirped 
sleepily  in  the  warm  grass,  and  a  score  of  tiny 
yellow  butterflies  hovered  over  a  group  of  odorous 
hollyhocks. 

Suddenly  the  person  on  the  porch  broke  into  this 
cheerful  song,  which  she  pitched  in  so  high  a  key 
and  gave  with  such  emphasis  that  the  crickets  and 


28  FINDING  A   HOME 

grasshoppers  retired  by  mutual  consent  from  any 
further  competition,  and  the  butterflies  suspended 
operations  for  several  seconds  :  — 

"  I  '11  chase  the  antelope  over  the  plain, 
The  tiger's  cub  I  '11  bind  with  a  chain, 
And  the  wild  gazelle  with  its  silv'ry  feet 
I  '11  bring  to  thee  for  a  playmate  sweet." 

Timothy  listened  intently  for  some  moments,  but 
could  not  understand  the  words,  unless  the  lady 
happened  to  be  in  the  menagerie  business,  which  he 
thought  unlikely,  but  delightful  should  it  prove  true. 

His  eye  then  fell  on  a  little  marble  slab  under  a 
tree  in  a  shady  corner  of  the  orchard. 

"  That  must  be  a  country  doorplate,"  he  thought; 
"yes,  it's  got  the  lady's  name,  'Martha  Cummins,' 
printed  on  it.  Now  I  '11  know  what  to  call  her." 


"  That  must  be  a.  country  doorplaU ' 


He  crept  softly  on  to  the  front  side  of  the  house. 
There  were  flower  beds,  a  lovable  white  cat  snooz- 


FINDING  A   HOME  29 

ing  on  the  doorsteps,  and  —  a  lady  sitting  at  the 
open  window  knitting ! 

At  this  vision  Timothy's  heart  beat  so  hard 
against  his  dusty  jacket  that  he  could  only  stag- 
ger back  to  the  basket,  where  Rags  and  Lady  Gay 
were  snuggled  together,  fast  asleep.  He  anxiously 
scanned  Gay's  face ;  moistened  his  rag  of  a  hand- 
kerchief, scrubbed  an  atrocious  dirt  spot  from  the 
tip  of  her  spirited  nose,  and  then,  dragging  the 
basket  along  the  path  leading  to  the  front  gate, 
he  opened  it  and  went  in,  mounted  the  steps, 
plied  the  brass  knocker,  and  waited  in  childlike 
faith  for  a  summons  to  enter  and  make  himself  at 
home. 


SCENE   IV 

The  White  Farm.   Afternoon 

TIMOTHY  FINDS  A  HOUSE  IN  WHICH  HE  THINKS 
A  BABY  IS  NEEDED,  BUT  THE  INMATES  DO  NOT 
ENTIRELY  AGREE  WITH  HIM 

MEANWHILE,    Miss  Avilda    Cummins 
had  left  her  window  and  gone  into  the 
next    room   for  a   skein   of   yarn.     She 
answered  the  knock,  however  ;   and,  opening  the 
door,  stood  rooted  to  the  threshold  in  speechless 
astonishment,  very  much  as  if   she  had  seen  the 
ghosts  of  her  ancestors  drawn  up  in  line  in  the 
dooryard. 

Off  went  Timothy's  hat.  He  had  n't  seen  the 
lady's  face  very  clearly  when  she  was  knitting  at  the 
window,  or  he  would  never  have  dared  to  knock  ;  but 
it  was  too  late  to  retreat.  Looking  straight  into  her 
cold  eyes  with  his  own  shining  gray  ones,  he  said 
bravely,  but  with  a  trembling  voice,  "  Do  you  need 
any  babies  here,  if  you  please?"  (Need  any  babies! 
What  an  inappropriate,  nonsensical  expression,  to 
be  sure ;  as  if  a  household  baby  were  something 
exquisitely  indispensable,  like  the  breath  of  life,  for 
instance  !) 
No  answer.  Miss  Vilda  was  trying  to  assume 


FINDING   A   HOME  31 

command  of  her  scattered  faculties  and  find  some 
clue  to  the  situation.  Timothy  concluded  that  she 
was  not,  after  all,  the  lady  of  the  house ;  and,  re- 
membering the  marble  doorplate  in  the  orchard, 
tried  again.  "  Does  Miss  Martha  Cummins  live 
here,  if  you  please  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  want  ? "  Miss  Vilda  faltered,  for 
Martha  was  her  younger  sister,  dead  these  many 
years. 

"  I  want  somebody  to  adopt  my  baby,"  he  said ; 
"  if  you  have  n't  got  any  of  your  own,  you  could  n't 
find  one  half  as  dear  and  as  pretty  as  she  is ;  and 
you  need  n't  have  me  too,  you  know,  unless  you 
should  need  me  to  help  take  care  of  her." 

"  You  're  very  kind,"  Miss  Avilda  answered  sar- 
castically, preparing  to  shut  the  door  upon  the 
strange  child;  "but  I  don't  think  I  care  to  adopt 
any  babies  this  afternoon,  thank  you.  You  'd  better 
run  right  back  home  to  your  mother  if  you  've  got 
one,  and  know  where  't  is,  anyhow." 

"  But  I  —  I  have  n't !  "  cried  poor  Timothy,  with 
a  sudden  and  unpremeditated  burst  of  tears  at  the 
failure  of  his  hopes  ;  for  he  was  half  child  as  well 
as  half  hero.  At  this  juncture  Gay  opened  her 
eyes,  and  cried  at  the  unwonted  sight  of  Timothy's 
grief :  and  Rags,  who  was  quite  ready  to  weep  with 
those  who  wept,  lifted  up  his  woolly  head  and  added 
his  piteous  wails  to  the  concert. 

"  Samanthy  Ann  ! "  called  Miss  Vilda  excitedly  ; 


32  FINDING  A   HOME 

"  Samanthy  Ann  Ripley !  Come  right  in  here  and 
iell  me  what  to  do ! " 

The  person  thus  adjured  flew  in  from  the  porch, 
leaving  a  serpentine  trail  of  red,  yellow,  and  blue 
rags  in  her  wake.  "  Land  o'  liberty  !  "  she  exclaimed, 
as  she  surveyed  the  group.  "  Where  'd  they  come 
from,  and  what  are  they  tryin'  to  act  out  ? " 

"  This  boy 's  a  baby  agent,  as  near  as  I  can  under- 
stand ;  he  wants  I  should  adopt  this  red-headed 
young  one,  but  says  I  ain't  obliged  to  take  him 
too,  and  pretends  they  haven't  got  any  home.  I 
told  him  I  wa'n't  adoptin'  any  babies  just  now,  and 
at  that  he  burst  out  cryin',  and  the  other  two  fol- 
lowed suit.  Now,  have  the  three  of  'em  just  escaped 
from  some  asylum,  or  are  they  too  little  to  be  luna- 
tics ? " 

Timothy  dried  his  tears,  in  order  that  Gay  should 
be  comforted  and  appear  at  her  best,  and  said 
penitently  :  "  I  cried  before  I  thought,  because  Gay 
has  n't  had  anything  but  cookies  since  last  night, 
and  she  '11  have  no  place  to  sleep  unless  you  '11  let 
us  stay  here  just  till  morning.  We  went  by  all  the 
other  houses,  and  chose  this  one  because  everything 
was  so  beautiful." 

"Nothin'  but  cookies  sence  —  Land  o'  liberty  ! " 
ejaculated  Samantha  Ann,  starting  for  the  kitchen. 

"  Come  back  here,  Samanthy !  Don't  you  leave 
me  alone  with  'em,  and  don't  let 's  have  all  the 
neighbors  runnin'  in.  You  take  'em  into  the  kitchen 


FINDING   A   HOME 


33 


and  give  'em  somethin'  to  eat,  and  we  '11  see  about 
the  rest  afterwards." 

Gay  kindled  at  the  first  casual  mention  of  food ; 
and,  trying  to  clamber  out  of  the  basket,  fell  over 
the  edge,  thumping 
her  head  smartly  on 
the  stone  steps.  Miss 
Vilda  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands,  and 
waited  shudderingly 
for  another  yell,  as 
the  child's  crimson 
stockings  and  golden 
head  mingled  wildly 
in  the  air.  But  Lady 
Gay  disentangled  her- 
self, and  laughed  the  merriest  burst  of  laughter  that 
ever  woke  the  echoes.  That  was  a  joke ;  her  life 
was  full  of  them,  served  fresh  every  day ;  for  no 
sort  of  adversity  could  long  have  power  over  such 
a  nature  as  hers. 

Miss  Avilda  tottered  into  the  darkened  sitting- 
room  and  sank  on  to  a  black  haircloth  sofa,  while 
Samantha  ushered  the  wanderers  into  the  sunny 
kitchen,  muttering  to  herself:  "Well,  I  vow!  trav- 
elin'  over  the  country  all  alone,  'n'  not  knee-high 
to  a  toad !  They  're  sendin'  out  awful  young  tramps 
this  season,  but  they  shan't  go  away  hungry,  if  I 
know  it." 


In  the  Kitchen 


34  FINDING   A   HOME 

Accordingly,  she  set  out  a  plentiful  supply  of 
bread  and  butter,  gingerbread,  pie,  and  milk,  put 
a  tin  plate  of  cold  hash  in  the  shed  for  Rags,  and 
swept  him  out  to  it  with  a  corn  broom,  as  is  the 
habit  in  that  part  of  the  country,  and  then  returned 
to  the  sitting-room. 

"  Now,  whatever  makes  you  so  panicky,  Vildy  ? 
Did  n't  you  never  see  a  tramp  before,  for  pity's  sake  ? 
And  if  you  're  scared  for  fear  I  can't  handle  'em 
alone,  why,  Jabe  '11  be  comin'  along  soon.  The 
prospeck  of  gittin'  to  bed  's  the  only  thing  that  '11 
make  him  'n'  Maria  hurry ;  V  they  '11  both  be 
thinkin'  about  that  by  this  time  !  You  jest  lay 
down  and  snuff  your  camphire,  an'  I  '11  go  out  an' 
interview  that  boy  an'  that  baby  an'  that  dog  until 
I  find  out  everything  about  'em  there  is  to  know ! " 

Now,  Samantha  Ann  Ripley  was  a  spinster  purely 
by  accident.  She  had  seldom  been  exposed  to  the 
witcheries  of  children,  or  she  would  have  known 
long  before  this  that,  so  far  as  she  was  personally 
concerned,  they  would  always  prove  irresistible. 
She  marched  into  the  kitchen  like  a  general  resolved 
upon  the  extinction  of  the  enemy.  She  walked  out 
again,  half  an  hour  later,  with  the  very  teeth  of  her 
resolve  drawn,  but  so  painlessly  that  she  had  not 
been  aware  of  the  operation  !  She  marched  in  a 
woman  of  a  single  purpose  ;  she  came  out  a  double- 
faced  diplomatist,  with  the  seeds  of  sedition  and 
conspiracy  lurking,  all  unsuspected,  in  her  heart. 


FINDING   A   HOME 


35 


The  cause  ?  Nothing  more  than  a  dozen  trifles 
as  light  as  air.  Timothy  had  sat  upon  a  little 
wooden  stool  at  her  feet ;  and,  resting  his  arms  on 
her  knees,  had  looked  up  into  her  kind,  rosy  face 
with  a  pair  of  liquid  eyes  like  gray-blue  lakes,  eyes 
which  seemed  and  were  the  very'  windows  of  his 
soul.  He  had  sat  there  telling  his  wee  bit  of  a 
story  ;  just  a  vague,  shadowy,  plaintive,  uncom- 
plaining scrap  of  a  story,  without  beginning,  plot, 
or  ending,  but  every  word  in  it  set  Samantha  Ann 
Ripley's  heart  throbbing. 

And  Gay,  who  knew  a  good  thing  when  she  saw 
it,  had  climbed  up  into  her  capacious  lap,  and,  not 
being  denied,  had 
cuddled  her  head 
into  that  gracious 
hollow  in  Saman- 
tha's  shoulder, 
that  had  somehow 
missed  the  pres- 
sure of  the  child- 
ish heads  that 
should  have  lain 
there.  Then  Sa- 
mantha's  arm 
had  finally  crept 
round  the  deli- 
cious scrap  of  soft  humanity,  and  before  she  knew 
it  her  chair  was  swaying  gently  to  and  fro,  to  and 


Timothy  telling  his  Story 


3 6  FINDING  A  HOME 

fro,  to  and  fro ;  and  the  wooden  rockers  creaked 
more  sweetly  than  ever  they  had  creaked  before,  for 
they  were  singing  their  first  cradle  song ! 

Then  Gay  heaved  a  great  sigh  of  unspeakable 
satisfaction,  and  closed  her  lovely  eyes.  She  had 
been  born  with  a  desire  to  be  petted,  and  had  had 
precious  little  experience  of  it.  At  the  sound  of 
this  happy  sigh  and  the  sight  of  the  child's  flower 
face,  with  the  upward  curling  lashes  on  the  pink 
cheeks,  the  moist  tendrils  of  hair  on  the  white  fore- 
head, and  the  helpless,  clinging  touch  of  the  baby 
arm  about  her  neck,  I  cannot  tell  you  the  why  or 
wherefore,  but  old  memories  and  new  desires  began 
to  stir  in  Samantha  Ann  Ripley's  heart.  In  short, 
she  had  met  the  enemy,  and  she  was  theirs ! 


SCENE  V 

The  White  Farm.     Evening 

TIMOTHY,  LADY  GAY,  AND  RAGS  PROVE 
FAITHFUL  TO  ONE  ANOTHER 

WELL,  what  do  you  advise  doin'  ? " 
asked  Miss  Cummins  nervously,  when 
Samantha  found  her  in  the  sitting-room 
a  half  hour  later. 

"  I  don't  feel  comp'tent  to  advise,  Vilda ;  the  house 
ain't  mine, nor  yet  the  beds  that's  in  it,  nor  the  vict- 
uals in  the  pantry  ;  but  as  a  professin'  Christian  and 
member  of  the  Orthodox  Church  in  good  and  reg'lar 
standin'  you  can't  turn  'em  outdoors  when  it  's 
comin'  on  dark  and  they  ain't  got  no  place  to  sleep." 

"  I  don't  propose  to  take  in  two  strange  children 
and  saddle  myself  with  'em  for  days,  or  weeks,  per- 
haps," said  Miss  Cummins  coldly,  "  but  I  tell  you 
what  I  will  do.  Supposin'  we  send  the  boy  over 
to  Squire  Bean's.  It 's  near  hayin'  time,  and  the 
Squire  may  take  him  in  to  help  rake  up.  Then 
we  '11  tell  the  boy  before  he  goes  that  we  '11  keep 
the  baby  as  long  as  he  gets  a  chance  to  work  any- 
wheres near.  That  will  give  us  a  chance  to  look 
round  for  some  place  for  'em  and  find  out  whether 
they  've  told  us  the  truth." 


3  8  FINDING  A   HOME 

"  And  if  Squire  Bean  won't  take  him  ? "  asked 
Samantha,  with  as  much  cold  indifference  as  she 
could  assume. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  there  's  nothing  for  it  but  he 
must  come  back  here  and  sleep.  I  '11  go  out  and 
tell  him  so,  —  I  declare  I  feel  as  weak  as  if  I  'd 
had  a  spell  of  sickness  !  " 

Timothy  bore  the  news  better  than  Samantha 
had  feared.  Squire  Bean's  farm  did  not  look  so  very 
far  away  ;  his  heart  was  at  rest  about  Gay,  and  he 
felt  that  he  could  find  a  shelter  for  himself  some- 
where. 

"  Now,  how  '11  the  baby  act  when  she  wakes  up 
and  finds  you  're  gone  ?  "  inquired  Miss  Vilda  anx- 
iously, as  Timothy  took  his  hat  and  bent  down  to 
kiss  the  sleeping  child. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  exactly,"  answered  Timo- 
thy, "  because  she  's  always  had  me,  you  see.  But 
I  guess  she  '11  be  all  right,  now  that  she  knows  you 
a  little,  and  if  I  can  see  her  every  day.  She  never 
cries  except  once  in  a  long  while  when  she  gets 
mad  ;  and  if  you  're  careful  how  you  behave,  she  '11 
hardly  ever  get  mad  at  you." 

"  Well,  I  vow  !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Vilda,  with  a 
grim  glance  at  Samantha,  "  I  guess  she  'd  better 
do  the  behavin'." 

So  Timothy  was  shown  the  way  across  the  fields 
to  Squire  Bean's.  Samantha  accompanied  him  to 
the  back  gate,  where  she  gave  him  three  doughnuts 


FINDING   A   HOME 


39 


and  an  affectionate  kiss,  watching  him  out  of  sight 
under  the  pretense  of  taking  the  towels  and  nap- 
kins off  the  grass. 

It  was  nearly  nine  o'clock  and  quite  dark  when 
Timothy  stole  again  to  the  little  gate  of  the  White 
Farm.  The  feet  that  had  traveled  so  courageously 
over   the  half   mile 
walk       to       Squire 
Bean's     had     come 
back    again    slowly 
and  wearily  ;  for  it  is 
one  thing  to  be  shod 
with  the  sandals  of 
hope,  and  quite  an- 
other to  tread  upon 
the  leaden  soles  of 
disappointment. 

He  leaned  upon 
th«.  white  picket  gate  listening  to  the  chirp  of  the 
frogs  and  looking  at  the  fireflies  as  they  hung  their 
gleaming  lamps  here  and  there  in  the  tall  grass. 
Then  he  crept  round  to  the  side  door,  to  implore 
the  kind  offices  of  Samantha  before  he  entered 
the  presence  of  Miss  Avilda,  whom  he  assumed  to 
be  sitting  in  awful  state  somewhere  in  the  front 
part  of  the  house.  He  lifted  the  latch  noiselessly 
and  entered  the  kitchen.  Oh,  horrors  !  Miss  Avilda 
herself  was  sprinkling  clothes  at  the  great  table 


Timothy  goes  to  Squire  Bean's 


40  FINDING  A   HOME 

on  one  side  of  the  room.  There  was  a  moment  of 
silence  before  the  boy  spoke. 

"  Mr.  Bean  would  n't  have  me,"  said  Timothy 
simply;  "  he  said  I  was  n't  big  enough  yet.  I  offered 
him  Gay,  too,  but  he  did  n't  want  her  either;  and  if 
you  please,  I  would  rather  sleep  on  the  sofa  so  as 
not  to  be  any  more  trouble." 

"  You  won't  do  any  such  thing,"  responded  Miss 
Vilda  briskly.  "You've  got  a  royal  welcome  this 
time  sure,  and  I  guess  you  can  earn  your  lodging 
fast  enough.  You  hear  that  ?  "  and  she  opened  the 
door  that  led  into  the  upper  part  of  the  house. 

A  piercing  shriek  floated  down  into  the  kitchen, 
and  another  still  louder,  and  then  another.  Every 
drop  of  blood  in  Timothy's  spare  body  rushed  to 
his  pale  face.  "  Is  she  being  whipped  ? "  he  whis- 
pered, with  trembling  lips. 

"No;  she  needs  it  bad  enough,  but  we  ain't 
savages.  She's  only  got  the  pretty  temper  that 
matches  her  hair,  just  as  you  said.  I  guess  we 
have  n't  been  behavin'  to  suit  her." 

"  Can  I  go  up  ?  She  '11  stop  in  a  minute  when  she 
sees  me.  She  never  went  to  bed  without  me  befor^ 
and  truly,  truly,  she 's  not  a  cross  baby ! " 

"  Come  right  along  and  welcome ;  just  so  long 
as  she  has  to  stay  you  're  invited  to  visit  with  her. 
Land  sakes  !  the  neighbors  will  think  we  're  killin' 
pigs!"  and  Miss  Vilda  started  upstairs  to  show 
Timothy  the  way. 


FINDING  A  HOME  41 

Gay  was  sitting  up  in  bed  and  the  faithful  Saman- 
tha  Ann  was  seated  beside  her  with  a  lapful  of 
useless  bribes,  —  apples,  seed-cakes,  an  illustrated 
Bible,  a  thermometer,  an  ear  of  red  corn,  and  a 
large  stuffed  green  bird,  the  glory  of  the  parlor 
mantelpiece. 

But  a  whole  aviary  of  highly  colored  songsters 
would  not  have  assuaged  Gay's  woe  at  that  mo- 
ment. Every  effort  at  conciliation  was  met  with 
the  one  plaint :  "  I  want  my  Timfy !  I  want  my 
Timfy!" 

At  the  first  sight  of  the  beloved  form,  Gay  flung 
the  sacred  bird  into  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room 
and  burst  into  a  wild  sob  of  delight,  as  she  threw 
herself  into  Timothy's  loving  arms. 

When  Miss  Avilda  opened  her  eyes,  the  morning 
after  the  arrival  of  the  children,  she  tried  to  remem- 
ber whether  anything  had  happened  to  give  her 
such  a  strange  feeling  of  altered  conditions.  It  was 
Saturday,  —  baking  day,  —  that  could  n't  be  it ; 
and  she  gazed  at  the  little  dimity-curtained  window 
and  wondered  what  was  the  matter. 

Just  then  a  child's  laugh,  bright,  merry,  tuneful, 
infectious,  rang  out  from  some  distant  room,  and 
it  all  came  back  to  her  as  Samantha  Ann  opened 
the  door  and  peered  in. 

"  I  've  got  breakfast  'bout  ready,"  she  said ;  "but 
I  wish,  soon  's  you  're  dressed,  you  'd  step  down  'n* 


42  FINDING  A   HOME 

see  to  it,  V  let  me  wash  the  baby.  I  guess  water 
was  scarce  where  she  come  from  ! " 

"  They  're  awake,  are  they  ? " 

"  Awake  ?  Land  o'  liberty !  as  soon  as 't  was  light, 
and  before  the  boy  had  opened  his  eyes,  Gay  was 
up  'n'  poundin'  on  all  the  doors,  'n'  hollerin' 
'  S'manfy '  (beats  all  how  she  got  holt  o'  my  name 
so  quick),  so  't  I  thought  sure  she  'd  disturb  your 
sleep.  See  here,  Vildy,  we  want  those  children 
should  look  respectable  the  few  days  they  're  here. 
I  don't  see  how  we  can  rig  out  the  boy,  but  there 's 
those  old  things  of  your  sister  Marthy's  in  the  at- 
tic ;  seems  like  it  might  be  a  blessin'  on  'em  if  we 
used  'em  this  way." 

"  I  thought  of  it  myself  in  the  night,"  answered 
Vilda  briefly.  "  You  '11  find  the  key  of  the  trunk 
in  the  light-stand  drawer.  You  see  to  the  children, 
and  I  '11  get  breakfast  on  the  table.  Has  Jabe 
come  ? " 

"  No  ;  he  sent  a  boy  to  milk,  'n'  said  he  'd  be 
right  along.  You  know  what  that  means  !  " 

Miss  Vilda  moved  about  the  immaculate  kitchen, 
frying  potatoes  and  making  tea,  setting  on  extra 
portions  of  bread  and  doughnuts  and  a  huge  pitcher 
Df  milk  ;  while  various  noises,  strange  enough  in 
that  quiet  house,  floated  down  from  above. 

"  This  is  dreadful  hard  on  Samanthy,"  she  re- 
flected. "  I  don't  know  's  I  'd  ought  to  have  put  it 
on  her,  knowing  how  she  hates  confusion  and  com- 


FINDING   A   HOME  43 

pany,  and  all  that ;  but  she  seemed  to  think  we  'd 
got  to  endure  it  for  a  spell,  anyway ;  though  I 
don't  expect  her  temper '11  stand  the  strain  very 
long." 

The  fact  was,  Samantha  was  banging  doors  and 
slamming  tin  pails  about  furiously,  to  keep  up  an  os- 
tentatious show  of  ill  humor.  She  tried  her  best  to 
grunt  with  displeasure  when  Gay,  seated  in  a  wash- 
tub,  crowed  and  beat  the  water  with  her  dimpled 
hands,  so  that  it  splashed  all  over  the  carpet ;  but 
all  the  time  there  was  such  a  joy  tugging  at  her 
heartstrings  as  they  had  not  felt  for  years. 

When  the  bath  was  over,  clean  p'etticoats  and 
ankle-ties  were  chosen  out  of  the  old  leather  trunk, 
and  finally  a  little  blue  and  white  lawn  dress.  It 
was  too  long  in  the  skirt,  and  pending  the  moment 
when  Samantha  should  take  a  tuck  in  it,  it  antici- 
pated the  present  fashion,  and  made  Lady  Gay 
look  more  like  a  disguised  princess  than  ever.  The 
gown  was  low-necked  and  short-sleeved,  in  the  old 
style ;  and  Samantha  was  in  despair  till  she  found 
some  little  embroidered  muslin  capes  and  full  un- 
dersleeves,  with  which  she  covered  Gay's  pink  neck 
and  arms.  These  things  of  beauty  so  wrought  upon 
the  child's  excitable  nature  that  she  could  hardly 
keep  still  long  enough  to  have  her  hair  curled ;  and 
Samantha,  as  the  shining  rings  dropped  off  her 
stiff  forefinger,  was  wrestling  with  temptation  in 
the  shape  of  a  small  box  of  jewelry  that  she  had 


44 


FINDING   A   HOME 


Gay't  Toilet 


found  with  the  clothing.  She  knew  that  such  orna- 
ments were  out  of  place  on  a  little  pauper  just 
taken  in  for  the  night ;  but  her  fingers  trembled 

with  a  desire  to 
fasten  the  tiny 
gold  ears  of  corn  on 
the  shoulders,  or 
tie  the  strings  of 
coral  beads  around 
the  child's  pretty 
throat. 

When  the  toilet 
was  completed,  and 
Samantha  wasemp- 
tying  the  tub,  Gay 
climbed  on  the  bureau  and  imprinted  sloppy  kisses 
of  sincere  admiration  on  the  radiant  reflection  of 
herself  in  the  little  looking-glass;  then,  getting 
down  again,  she  seized  her  heap  of  Minerva  Court 
clothes,  and,  before  the  astonished  Samantha  could 
interpose,  flung  them  out  of  the  second-story  win- 
dow, where  they  fell  on  the  top  of  the  lilac  bushes. 
"  Me  does  n't  like  nasty  old  dress,"  she  explained, 
with  a  dazzling  smile  that  was  a  justification  in  it- 
self ;  "  me  likes  pretty  new  dress  ! "  and  then,  with 
one  hand  reaching  up  to  the  door-knob,  and  the 
other  throwing  disarming  kisses  to  Samantha, — 
"  By-by !  Lady  Gay  go  circus  now !  Timfy,  come, 
take  Lady  Gay  to  circus  !  " 


FINDING  A  HOME  45 

There  was  no  time  for  discipline  then,  and  she 
was  borne  to  the  breakfast-table,  where  Timothy 
was  already  making  acquaintance  with  Miss  Vilda. 

Samantha  entered,  and  Vilda,  glancing  at  her 
nervously,  perceived  with  relief  that  she  was  "  tak- 
ing things  easy."  Her  whole  face  had  relaxed ;  her 
mouth  was  no  longer  a  thin,  hard  line,  but  had  a 
certain  curve  and  fullness,  borrowed  perhaps  from 
the  warmth  of  innocent  baby-kisses.  Embarrass- 
ment and  stifled  joy  had  brought  a  rosier  color  to 
her  cheek;  Gay's  naughty  hand  had  ruffled  the 
smoothness  of  her  sandy  locks,  so  that  a  few  stray 
hairs  were  absolutely  curling  with  amazement  that 
they  had  escaped  from  their  sleek  bondage ;  in  a 
word,  Samantha  Ann  Ripley  was  lovely  and  lov- 
able! 

Timothy  had  no  eyes  for  any  one  save  his  be- 
loved Gay,  at  whom  he  gazed  with  unspeakable 
admiration,  thinking  it  impossible  that  any  human 
being,  with  a  single  eye  in  its  head,  could  refuse  to 
take  such  an  angel  when  it  was  in  the  market. 

Gay,  not  being  used  to  a  regular  morning  toilet, 
had  fought  against  it  valiantly  at  first;  but  the 
tonic  of  the  bath  itself  and  the  exercise  of  war  had 
brought  the  color  to  her  cheeks  and  the  brightness 
to  her  eyes.  She  had  forgiven  Samantha,  she  was 
ready  to  be  on  good  terms  with  Miss  Vilda,  she 
was  at  peace  with  all  the  world.  That  she  was 
eating  the  bread  of  dependence  did  not  trouble  her 


46  FINDING  A   HOME 

in  the  least !  No  royal  visitor,  conveying  honor  by 
her  mere  presence,  could  have  carried  off  a  delicate 
situation  with  more  distinguished  grace  and  ease. 
She  was  perched  on  a  Webster's  Unabridged  Dic- 
tionary, and  immediately  began  blowing  bubbles  in 
her  mug  of  milk  in  the  most  reprehensible  fashion ; 
and  glancing  up  after  each  mischievous  effort  with 
an  irrepressible  gurgle  of  laughter,  in  which  she 
looked  so  bewitching,  even  with  a  milky  crescent 
over  her  red  mouth,  that  she  would  have  melted  the 
hardest  heart  in  Christendom. 

Timothy  was  not  so  entirely  at  his  ease.  His 
eyes  had  looked  into  life  only  a  few  more  summers, 
but  experience  had  tempered  joy.  Gay,  however, 
had  not  arrived  at  an  age  where  people's  motives 
can  be  suspected  for  an  instant.  She  apparently 
looked  upon  herself  as  a  guest  out  of  heaven,  flung 
down  upon  this  hospitable  planet  with  the  single 
responsibility  of  enjoying  its  treasures. 

O  happy  heart  of  childhood  !  Your  simple  creed 
is  rich  in  faith,  and  trust,  and  hope.  You  have  not 
learned  that  the  children  of  a  common  Father  can 
do  aught  but  love  and  help  one  another. 


SCENE  VI 

A  Point  of  Honor 
TIMOTHY  RUNS  AWAY. 

A  MONTH  had  gone  by  and  the  children 
were  still  at  the  White  Farm,  no  one  hav- 
ing been  found  who  would  consider  taking 
them  both  into  the  family.  Gay  was  a  general  favor- 
ite, but  no  home  with  the  little  "h"  had  as  yet 
been  offered  to  Timothy. 

It  was  almost  dusk  and  Jabe  Slocum  was  strug- 
gling with  the  nightly  problem  of  getting  the  cow 
from  the  pasture  without  any  expenditure  of  per- 
sonal effort.  Timothy  was  nowhere  to  be  found,  or 
he  would  go  and  be  glad  to  do  the  trifling  service 
for  his  kind  friend  without  other  remuneration 
than  a  cordial  "  Thank  you."  Failing  Timothy  there 
was  always  Billy  Pennell,  who  would  not  go  for  a 
"Thank  you,"  being  a  boy  of  a  sordid  and  miserly 
manner  of  thought,  but  who  would  go  for  a  cent  and 
not  expect  cash,  which  made  it  a  more  reasonable 
charge  than  would  appear  to  the  casual  observer. 
So  Jabe  lighted  his  corncob  pipe,  and  extended  him- 
self under  a  willow  tree  beside  the  pond,  singing  in 
a  cheerful  fashion :  — 


48  FINDING   A   HOME 

* '  Tremblin'  sinner,  calm  your  fears ! 
Pardon  is  always  ready. 
Cease  your  sin  and  dry  your  tears, 
Pardon  is  always  ready  1 '  " 

"And  dretful  lucky  it  is  for  you !  "  muttered 
Samantha,  who  had  come  to  look  for  Timothy. 
"  Jabe !  Jabe  !  Has  Timothy  gone  for  the  cow  ?  " 

"  Dunno.  Jest  what  I  was  goin'  to  ask  you  when 
I  got  roun'  to  it." 

"  Well,  how  are  you  goin'  to  find  out  ?  " 

"  Find  out  by  seein'  the  cow  if  he  hez  gone,  an' 
by  not  seein'  no  cow  if  he  hain't.  I  'm  comf'table 
either  way  it  turns  out.  Look  down  there  at  the" 
shiners,  ain't  they  cool  ?  Land !  I  wish  I  was  a 
fish  ! " 

"  If  you  was  you  would  n't  wear  your  fins  out, 
that 's  certain  !  " 

"  Come  now,  Samanthy,  don't  be  hard  on  a  feller 
after  his  day's  work.  Want  me  to  git  up  'n'  blow 
the  horn  for  the  boy  ?  " 

"  No,  thank  you,"  answered  Samantha  cuttingly. 
"I  wouldn't  ask  you  to  blow  out  your  precious 
breath  for  fear  you  'd  be  too  lazy  to  draw  it  in  agin. 
When  I  want  to  get  anything  done  I  can  gen'ally 
spunk  up  and  do  it  myself,  thanks  be  !  " 

"Wall  now,  Samanthy,  you  cheat  the  men-folks 
cut  of  a  heap  o'  pleasure  bein'  so  all-fired  inde< 
pendent,  did  ye  know  it  ? " 

"  When  'd  you  see  Timothy  last  ?  " 


FINDING  A  HOME  49 

"I  hain't  seen  him  sence  'bout  noon-time.  War  n't 
he  in  to  supper  ? " 

"  No.  We  thought  he  was  off  with  you.  Well,  I 
guess  he 's  gone  for  the  cow,  but  I  should  think  he  'd 
be  hungry.  It 's  kind  o'  queer." 

Miss  Vilda  was  seated  at  the  open  window  in  the 
kitchen  meantime,  with  Lady  Gay  enthroned  in  her 
lap,  sleepy,  affectionate,  tractable,  adorable. 

"  How  would  you  like  to  live  here  at  the  White 
Farm,  deary  ?  "  asked  Miss  Vilda. 

"  Oh,  yet.  I  yike  to  yive  here  if  Timfy  doin'  to 
live  here,  too.  I  yike  oo,  I  yike  Samfy,  I  yike  Dabe, 
I  yike  white  tat  'n'  white  tow  'n'  white  bossy  'n'  my 
boof ely  desses  'n*  my  boofely  dolly  'n'  I  yikes  evely- 
buddy!" 

"  But  you  'd  stay  here  like  a  nice  little  girl  if  Tim- 
othy had  to  go  away,  would  n't  you  ?" 

"  No,  I  won't  tay  like  nite  'ittle  dirl  if  Timfy  do 
'way.  If  Timfy  do  'way,  I  do  too.  I 's  Timfy's  dirl." 

"  But  you  're  too  little  to  go  away  with  Timothy." 

"  Ven  I  ky  an'  keam  an'  kick  an'  hold  my  bwef  — 
I  show  you  how ! " 

"  No,  you  need  n't  show  me  how,"  said  Vilda 
hastily.  "  Who  do  you  love  best,  deary,  Samanthy 
or  me  ? " 

"  I  yuv  Timfy  bet.  Lemme  twy  rit-man-poor-man- 
bedder-man-fief  on  your  buckalins,  pease." 

"  Then  you  '11  stay  here  and  be  my  little  girl,  will 
you  ? " 


50  FINDING  A   HOME 

"  Yet,  I  tay  here  an'  be  Timfy's  'ittle  dirl.  Now oo 
p'ay  by  your  own  seff  'ittle  while,  Mit  Vildy,  pease, 
coz  I  dot  to  det  down  an'  find  Samfy  an'  put  my  dolly 
to  bed  coz  she  's  defful  seepy." 

"It's  half  past  eight,"  said  Samantha,  coming 
into  the  kitchen,  "  and  Timothy  ain't  nowheres  to 
be  found,  and  Jabe  hain't  seen  him  sence  noon- 
time." 

"  You  need  n't  be  scared  for  fear  you  've  lost 
your  bargain,"  remarked  Miss  Vilda  sarcastically. 
"  There  ain't  so  many  places  open  to  the  boy  that 
he  '11  turn  his  back  on  this  one,  I  guess  !  " 

Yet,  though  the  days  of  chivalry  were  over,  that 
was  precisely  what  Timothy  Jessup  had  done. 

Wilkins's  Wood  was  a  quiet  stretch  of  timber  land 
that  lay  along  the  banks  of  Pleasant  River ;  and 
though  the  natives  (for  the  most  part)  never  noticed 
but  that  it  was  paved  with  asphalt  and  roofed  in 
with  oil-cloth,  yet  it  was,  nevertheless,  the  most 
tranquil  bit  of  loveliness  in  all  the  country  round. 
For  there  the  river  twisted  and  turned  and  sparkled 
in  the  sun,  and  bent  itself  in  graceful  curtsies  of 
farewell  to  the  hills  it  was  leaving  ;  and  kissed  the 
velvet  meadows  that  stooped  to  drink  from  its  brim- 
ming cup;  and  lapped  the  trees  gently,  as  they  hung 
over  its  crystal  mirrors  the  better  to  see  their  ow>j 
fresh  beauty.  And  here  it  "wound  about  and  in  and 
out,"  laughing  in  the  morning  sunlight,  to  think 


FINDING   A   HOME  51 

of  the  tiny  streamlet  out  of  which  it  grew ;  paling 
and  shimmering  at  evening  when  it  held  the  stars 
and  moonbeams  in  its  bosom  ;  and  trembling  in  the 
night  wind  to  think  of  the  great  unknown  sea  into 
whose  arms  it  was  hurrying. 

Here  was  a  quiet  pool  where  the  rushes  bent  to 
the  breeze  and  the  quail  dipped  her  wing ;  and 
there  a  winding  path  where  the  cattle  came  down 
to  the  edge,  and  having  looked  upon  the  scene  and 
found  it  all  very  good,  dipped  their  sleek  heads  to 
drink  and  drink  and  drink  of  the  river's  nectar.  Here 
the  first  pink  mayflowers  pushed  their  sweet  heads 
through  the  reluctant  earth,  and  waxen  Indian  pipes 
grew  in  the  moist  places,  and  yellow  violets  hid 
themselves  beneath  their  modest  leaves. 

And  here  sat  Timothy,  with  all  his  heart  in  his 
eyes,  bidding  good-by  to  all  this  soft  and  tender 
loveliness.  And  there,  by  his  side,  faithful  unto 
death  (but  very  much  in  hopes  of  something  bet- 
ter), sat  Rags,  and  thought  it  a  fine  enough  pros- 
pect, but  one  that  could  be  beaten  at  all  points  by 
a  bit  of  shed-view  he  knew  of,  —  an  overturned 
hash-pan,  an  empty  milk-dish,  and  a  frightened 
white  cat  flying  round  a  corner  !  The  remembrance 
of  these  past  joys  brought  the  tears  to  his  eyes,  but 
he  forebore  to  let  them  flow  lest  he  should  add  to 
the  griefs  of  his  little  master,  which,  for  aught  he 
knew,  might  be  as  heavy  as  his  own. 

Timothy  was  comporting  himself,  at  this  trying 


52  FINDING  A  HOME 

crisis,  neither  as  a  hero  nor  as  a  martyr.  There  is 
no  need  of  exaggerating  his  virtues.  Enough  to  say, 
not  that  he  was  a  hero,  but  that  he  had  in  him  the 
stuff  out  of  which  heroes  are  made.  Win  his  heart 
and  fire  his  imagination,  and  there  is  no  splendid 
deed  of  which  the  little  fellow  would  not  have  been 
capable ;  but  that  he  knew  precisely  what  he  was 
leaving  behind,  or  what  he  was  going  forth  to  meet, 
would  be  saying  too  much.  One  thing  he  did  know : 
that  Miss  Vilda  had  said  distinctly  that  two  children 
were  one  too  many  to  adopt,  and  that  he  was  the  ob- 
jectionable extra  referred  to.  And  in  addition  to  this 
he  had  more  than  once  heard  that  very  day  that  no- 
body in  Pleasant  River  wanted  him,  but  that  there 
would  be  plenty  of  homes  open  to  Gay  if  he  were 
safely  out  of  the  way.  A  little  allusion  to  a  Home, 
which  he  caught  when  he  was  just  bringing  in  a 
four-leafed  clover  to  show  to  Samantha,  completed 
the  stock  of  ideas  from  which  he  reasoned.  He  was 
very  clear  on  one  point,  and  that  was  that  he  would 
never  be  taken  alive  and  put  in  a  Home  with  a  cap- 
ital H.  He  respected  Homes,  he  approved  of  them, 
for  other  boys,  but  personally  they  were  unpleasant 
to  him,  and  he  had  no  intention  of  dwelling  in  one 
if  he  could  help  it.  The  situation  did  not  appear 
utterly  hopeless  in  his  eyes.  He  had  his  original 
dollar  and  eighty-five  cents  in  money ;  Rags  and 
he  had  supped  like  kings  off  wild  blackberries  and 
hard  gingerbread ;  and,  more  than  all,  he  was  young 


FINDING  A   HOME  53 

and  mercifully  blind  to  all  but  the  immediate  pres- 
ent. Yet  even  in  taking  the  most  commonplace 
possible  view  of  his  character  it  would  be  folly  to 
affirm  that  he  was  anything  but  unhappy.  His  soul 
was  not  sustained  by  the  consciousness  of  having 
done  a  self -forgetting  and  manly  act,  for  he  was 
not  old  enough  to  have  such  a  consciousness,  which 
is  something  the  good  God  gives  us  a  little  later  on, 
to  help  us  over  some  of  the  hard  places. 

"  Nobody  wants  me  !  Nobody  wants  me  ! "  he 
sighed,  as  he  lay  down  under  the  trees.  "  Nobody 
ever  did  want  me,  —  I  wonder  why !  And  everybody 
loves  my  darling  Gay  and  wants  to  keep  her,  and  I 
don't  wonder  about  that.  But,  oh,  if  I  only  belonged 
to  somebody  !  (Cuddle  up  close,  little  Ragsy  ;  we  've 
got  nobody  but  just  each  other,  and  you  can  put 
your  head  into  the  other  pocket  that  has  n't  got  the 
gingerbread  in  it,  if  you  please  !)  If  I  only  was  like 
that  little  butcher's  boy  that  he  lets  ride  on  the 
seat  with  him,  and  hold  the  reins  when  he  takes 
meat  into  the  houses, — or  if  I  only  was  that  freckle- 
faced  boy  with  the  straw  hat  that  lives  on  the  way 
to  the  store  !  His  mother  keeps  coming  out  to  the 
gate  on  purpose  to  kiss  him.  Or  if  I  was  even  Billy 
Pennell !  He's  had  three  mothers  and  two  fathers 
in  three  years,  Jabe  says.  Jabe  likes  me,  I  think, 
but  he  can't  have  me  live  at  his  house,  because 
his  mother  is  the  kind  that  needs  plenty  of  room, 
he  says,  —  and  Samanthy  has  no  house.  But  I  did 


54  FINDING  A   HOME 

what  I  tried  to  do.  I  got  away  from  Minerva  Court 
and  found  a  lovely  place  for  Gay  to  live,  with  two 
mothers  instead  of  one ;  and  maybe  they  '11  tell  her 
about  me  when  she  grows  bigger,  and  then  she  '11 
know  I  didn't  want  to  run  away  from  her;  but 
whether  they  tell  her  or  not,  she  's  only  a  little 
baby,  and  boys  must  always  take  care  of  girls ; 
that 's  what  my  dream-mother  whispers  to  me  in 
the  night,  —  and  that 's  . . .  what ...  I  'm  always . . . 
going  to  do." 

Come !  gentle  sleep,  and  take  this  friendless  little 
knight  in  thy  kind  arms !  Bear  him  across  the  rain- 
bow bridge,  and  lull  him  to  rest  with  the  soft  plash 
of  waves  and  sighing  of  branches  !  Cover  him  with 
thy  mantle,  sweet  mother  sleep,  and  give  him  in 
dreams  what  he  has  never  had  in  waking ! 

Meanwhile,  a  more  dramatic  scene  was  being 
enacted  at  the  White  Farm.  It  was  nine  o'clock, 
and  Samantha  had  gone  from  pond  to  garden, 
shed  to  barn,  and  gate  to  dairy,  a  dozen  times,  but 
there  was  no  sign  of  Timothy.  Gay  had  refused  to 
be  undressed  till  "  Timfy  "  appeared  on  the  prem- 
ises, but  had  fallen  asleep  in  spite  of  the  most  valiant 
resolution,  and  was  borne  upstairs  by  Samantha, 
who  made  her  ready  for  bed  without  waking  her. 

As  she  picked  up  the  heap  of  clothes  to  lay  them 
neatly  on  a  chair,  a  bit  of  folded  paper  fell  from  the 
bosom  of  the  little  dress.  She  glanced  at  it,  turned 


FINDING   A   HOME  55 

it  over  and  over,  read  it  quite  through.  Then,  after 
retiring  behind  her  apron  a  moment,  she  went 
swiftly  downstairs  to  the  dining-room,  where  Miss 
Avilda  and  Jabe  were  sitting. 

"There!"  she  exclaimed,  with  a  triumphant  sob, 
as  she  laid  the  paper  down  in  front  of  the  astonished 
couple.  "That's  a  letter  from  Timothy.  He's  run 
away,  'n'  I  don't  blame  him  a  mite,  'n'  I  hope  folks  '11 
be  satisfied  now  they've  got  rid  of  the  blessed 
angel,  'n'  turned  him  outdoors  without  a  roof  to 
his  head !  Read  it  out  loud,  'n'  see  what  kind  of  a 
boy  we  've  showed  the  door  to !  " 

Dere  Miss  vilder  and  sermanthy.  i  herd  you  say 
i  cood  not  stay  here  enny  longer  and  other  peeple 
sed  nobuddy  wood  have  me  and  what  you  sed  about 
the  home  but  as  i  do  not  like  homes  i  am  going  to 
run  away  if  its  all  the  same  to  you.  Please  give  Jabe 
back  his  birds  egs  with  my  love  and  i  am  sorry  i 
broak  the  humming-bird's  one  but  it  was  a  naxident. 
Pleas  take  good  care  of  gay  and  i  will  come  back 
and  get  her  when  I  am  ritch.  I  thank  you  very 
mutch  for  such  a  happy  time  and  the  white  farm  is 
the  most  butifull  plase  in  the  whole  whirld. 

TIM. 

p.  s.  i  wood  not  tell  you  if  i  was  going  to  stay  but 
billy  penel  thros  stones  at  the  white  cow  witch  i 
fere  will  get  into  her  milk  so  no  more  from 

TIM. 


FINDING  A  HOME 


i  am  sorry  not  to  say  good  by  but  i  am  afrade  on 
acount  of  the  home  so  i  put  them  here. 


The  paper  fell  from  Miss  Vilda's  trembling  fin- 
gers, and  two  salt  tears  dropped  into  the  kissing 
places. 

"  The  Lord  forgive  me ! "  she  said  at  length  (and 
it  was  many  a  year  since  any  one  had  seen  her  so 
moved).  "  The  Lord  forgive  me  for  a  hard-hearted 
old  woman,  and  give  me  a  chance  to  make  it  right. 
Not  one  hard  word  does  he  say  to  us  about  showin' 
partiality, — not  one!  And  my  heart  has  kind  of 
yearned  over  that  boy  from  the  first,  but  just  be- 
cause he  had  poor  Marthy's  eyes  he  kept  bringin' 
up  the  past,  and  I  never  looked  at  him  without 
rememberin'  how  hard  and  unforgivin'  I  'd  ben  to 
her,  and  tbinkin'  if  I  'd  petted  and  humored  her  a 
little  and  made  life  pleasanter,  perhaps  she  'd  never 
have  gone  away  from  home.  And  I  've  scrimped  and 
saved  and  laid  up  money  till  it  comes  hard  to  pay 


FINDING  A   HOME  57 

it  out,  and  when  I  thought  of  bringin*  up  and 
schoolin'  two  children  I  decided  I  could  n't  afford 
it;  and  yet  I've  got  ten  thousand  dollars  in  the 
bank  and  the  best  farm  for  miles  around.  Samanthy, 
you  bring  my  bonnet  and  shawl,  — Jabe,  you  run 
and  hitch  up  Maria,  and  we  '11  go  after  that  boy  and 
fetch  him  back  if  he 's  to  be  found  anywheres  above 
ground !  And  if  we  come  across  any  more  o'  the 
same  family  trampin'  around  the  country,  we'll 
bring  them  along  home  while  we  're  about  it,  and 
see  if  we  can't  get  some  sleep  and  some  comfort 
out  o'  life.  And  the  Missionary  Society  must  wait 
a  spell  for  their  legacy.  There 's  plenty  o'  folks 
that  don't  get  good  works  set  right  down  in  their 
front  yards  for  'em  to  do.  I  '11  look  out  for  the  indi- 
viduals for  a  while,  and  let  the  other  folks 
the  societies ! " 


SCENE  VII 

Wtlkins's  Woods 

THE    FAITHFUL    RAGS    GUIDES    MISS    VILDA    TO 
HIS  LITTLE  MASTER 

SAMANTHA  ran  out  to  the  barn  to  hold  the 
lantern  and  see  that  Jabe  did  n't  go  to  sleep 
while   he  was   harnessing   Maria.     But   he 
seemed  unusually  "  spry  "  for  him,  although  he  was 
conducting  himself  in  a  somewhat  strange  and  un- 
usual manner.  His  loose  figure  shook  from  time  to 
time,  as  with  severe  chills ;  he  seemed  too  weak  to 
hold  up  the  shafts,  and  so  he  finally  dropped  them 
and  hung  round  Maria's  neck  in  a  sort  of  mild, 
speechless  convulsion. 

"  What  under  the  canopy  ails  you,  Jabe  Slocum  ?" 
asked  Samantha.  "  I  s'pose  it 's  one  o'  them  ever- 
lastin'  old  jokes  o'  yourn,  but  it's  a  poor  time  to  be 
jokin'  now.  What 's  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

" '  Ask  me  no  questions  'n'  I'll  tell  you  no  lies,' 
is  an  awful  good  motto,"  chuckled  Jabe,  with  a  new 
explosion  of  mirth  that  stretched  his  mouth  to  an 
alarming  extent.  "  Oh,  there,  I  can't  hold  in  'nother 
minute.  I  shall  bust  if  I  don't  tell  somebody !  Set 
down  on  that  nail  kag,  Samanthy,  'n'  I'll  let  you 
hev  a  little  slice  o'  this  joke,  —  if  you'll  keep  it  to 


FINDING   A   HOME  59 

yourself.  You  see  I  know  —  'bout  —  whar  —  to  look 
—  for  this  here  —  runaway  boy !  " 

"You  have  n't  got  him  stowed  away  anywheres, 
have  you  ?  If  you  have,  it  '11  be  the  last  joke  you  '11 
play  on  Vildy  Cummins,  I  can  tell  you  that  much, 
Jabe  Slocum." 

"No,  I  hain't  stowed  him  away,  but  I  can  tell 
putty  nigh  whar  he 's  stowed  hisself  away,  and  I  'm 
ready  to  die  a-laughin'  to  see  how  it's  all  turned  out 
jest  as  I  suspicioned  't  would.  You  see,  Samanthy 
Ann,  I  've  ben  surmisin'  for  a  week  that  the  boy 
meant  to  run  away,  and  to-day  I  was  sure  of  it ;  for 
he  come  to  me  this  afternoon,  when  I  was  restin'  a 
spell  on  account  o'  the  hot  sun,  and  he  was  awful 
low-sperrited,  V  he  asked  me  every  namable  kind 
of  a  question  you  ever  hearn  tell  of.  Well,  when  I 
found  out  what  he  was  up  to  I  could  V  stopped  him 
then  'n'  there,  tho'  I  don't  know 's  I  would  anyhow, 
for  I  should  n't  like  livin'  in  a  'sylum  any  better  'n 
he  does  ;  but  thinks  I  to  myself,  thinks  I,  I  'd  better 
let  him  run  away,  jest  as  he's  a-plannin,'  —  and 
why  ?  'Cause  it  '11  show  what  kind  o'  stuff  he 's  made 
of,  and  that  he  ain't  no  beggar  layin'  roun'  whar  he 
ain't  wanted,  but  a  self-respectin'  boy  that's  wuth 
lookin'  after.  And  thinks  I,  Samanthy  'n'  I  know 
the  wuth  of  him  a'ready,  but  there's  them  that 
hain't  waked  up  to  it  yit,  namely,  Miss  Vildy  Try- 
pheny  Cummins ;  and  as  Miss  Vildy  Trypheny  Cum- 
mins can't  be  drove,  but  hez  to  be  kind  o'  coaxed 


60  FINDING   A   HOME 

along,  mebbe  this  runnin'-away  bizness  '11  be  the 
thing  that'll  fetch  her  roun'  to  our  way  o'  thinkin'. 
Now  I  would  n't  deceive  nobody  for  the  world,  but 
thinks  I,  there  ain't  no  deceivin'  'bout  this.  He 
don't  know  I  know  he 's  goin'  to  run  away,  so  he 's 
all  square;  and  he  never  told  me  nothin'  'bout 
his  plans,  so  I  'm  all  square  ;  and  Miss  Vildy  's  slow 
but  good  as  gold  when  she  gets  roun'  to  it,  so  she 
'11  be  all  square;  and  Samanthy's  got  her  blind- 
ers on  'n'  don't  see  nothin'  to  the  right  nor  to  the 
left,  so  she 's  all  square.  And  I  ain't  inteferin' 
with  nobody;  I'm  jest  lettin'  things  go  the  way 
they  've  started,  'n'  standin'  to  one  side  to  see  whar 
they  '11  fetch  up,  kind  o'  like  Providence.  I  'm  leavin' 
Miss  Vildy  a  free  agent,  but  I  'm  shapin'  circum- 
stances so  's  to  give  her  a  chance.  But,  land !  if  I  'd 
fixed  up  the  thing  to  suit  myself  I  could  n't  'a* 
managed  it  as  Timothy  has,  'thout  knowin'  that 
he  was  managin'  anything.  Look  at  that  letter 
bizness  now !  I  could  n't  'a'  writ  that  letter  bet- 
ter myself!  And  the  sperit  o'  the  little  feller,  jest 
takin'  his  dog  'n'  lightin'  out  with  nothin'  but  a  per- 
lite  good-by  !  Well,  I  can't  stop  to  talk  no  more 
'bout  it  now,  or  we  won't  ketch  him,  but  we  '11  jest 
try  Wilkins's  Woods,  Maria,  'n'  see  how  that  goes. 
The  river  road  leads  to  Edgewood  'n'  Hillside, 
whar  there  's  consid'able  hayin'  bein'  done,  as  I 
happened  to  mention  to  Timothy  this  afternoon ; 
and  plenty  o'  blackberries  'side  the  road,  'specially 


FINDING   A   HOME  61 

after  you  pass  the  wood-pile  on  the  left-hand  side, 
whar  there 's  a  reg'lar  garding  of  'em  right  side  of 
an  old  hoss-blanket  that's  layin'  there;  one  that  I 
happened  to  leave  there  one  time  when  I  was  sleepin' 
outdoors  for  my  health,  and  that  was  this  afternoon 
'bout  five  o'clock,  so  I  guess  it  hain't  changed  its 
location  sence." 

Jabe  and  Miss  Vilda  drove  in  silence  along  the 
river  road  that  skirted  Wilkins's  Woods,  a  place 
where  Jabe  had  taken  Timothy  more  than  once,  so 
he  informed  Miss  Vilda,  and  a  likely  road  for  him 
to  travel  if  he  were  on  his  way  to  some  of  the  near 
villages. 

Poor  Miss  Vilda !  Fifty  years  old,  and  in  twenty 
summers  and  winters  scarcely  one  lovely  thought 
had  blossomed  into  lovelier  deed  and  shed  its  sweet- 
ness over  her  arid  and  colorless  life.  And  now, 
under  the  magic  spell  of  tender  little  hands  and 
innocent  lips,  of  luminous  eyes  that  looked  wistfully 
into  hers  for  a  welcome,  and  the  touch  of  a  groping 
helplessness  that  fastened  upon  her  strength,  the 
woman  in  her  woke  into  life,  and  the  beauty  and 
fragrance  of  long-ago  summers  came  back  again  as 
in  a  dream. 

After  having  driven  three  or  four  miles,  they 
heard  a  melancholy  sound  in  the  distance  ;  and  as 
they  approached  a  huge  wood-pile  on  the  left  side 
of  the  road,  they  saw  a  small  woolly  form  perched  on 


FINDING   A   HOME 


a  little  rise  of  ground,  howling  most  melodiously 

at  the  August  moon,  that  hung  like  a  ball  of  red 
fire  in  the  cloudless  sky. 

"  That 's  a  sign  of  death  in 
the  family,  ain't  it,  Jabe  ? " 
whispered  Miss  Vilda  faintly. 
"  So  they  say,"  he  answered 
cheerfully ;  "but  if  't  is,  I  can 
'count  for  it,  bein'  as  how  I 
was  obliged  to  drown  four 
kittens  this  afternoon ;  and 
as  Rags  was  with  me  when  I 
done  it,  he  may  know  what 
he  's  bayin'  'bout,  —  if  't  is 
Rags,  'n'  it  looks  enough  like 
him  to  be  him,  'n'  Timothy  's 

sure  to  be  somewheres  near.    I  '11  get  out  'n'  look 

roun'  a  little." 

"  You  set  right  still,  Jabe ;  I  '11  get  out  myself, 

for  if  I  find  that  boy  I  've 

got  something  to  say  to  him 

that  nobody  can  say  forme." 
As  Jabe  drew  the  wagon 

up  beside  the  fence,   Rags 

bounded  out  to  meet  them. 

He  knew  Maria,  bless  your 

soul,  the  minute  he  clapped 

his  eyes  on  her,  and  as  he  approached  Miss  Vilda's 

shoe  his  quivering  whiskers  seemed  to  say,  "  Now, 


He  knew  Maria 


FINDING   A   HOME  63 

where  have  I  smelled  that  shoe  before  ?  If  I  mistake 
not,  it  has  been  applied  to  me  more  than  once!" 
whereupon  he  leaped  up  on  Miss  Cummins's  black 
alpaca  skirts  in  a  way  that  she  particularly  disliked. 

"  Now,"  said  she,  "  if  he 's  anything  like  dogs  you 
read  of  in  books,  he  '11  take  us  right  to  Timothy." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Jabe  cautiously  ; 
"  there 's  so  many  kinds  o'  dog  in  him  you  can't 
hardly  tell  what  he  will  do.  When  dogs  is  mixed 
beyond  a  certain  p'int  it  kind  o'  muddles  up  their 
instincks,  'n'  you  can't  rely  on  'em.  Still  you  might 
try  him.  Hold  still,  'n'  see  what  he  '11  do." 

Miss  Vilda  "  held  still,"  and  Rags  jumped  on  her 
skirts. 

"  Now,  set  down,  'n'  see  whar  he  '11  go." 

Miss  Vilda  sat  down,  and  Rags  went  into  her  lap. 

"  Now,  make  believe  start  sornewheres,  'n'  mebbe 
he  '11  get  ahead  'n'  put  you  on  the  right  track." 

Miss  Vilda  did  as  she  was  told,  and  Rags  followed 
close  at  her  heels. 

"  Land  !  I  never  see  sech  a  fool !  —  or  wait,  — 
I  '11  tell  you  what 's  the  matter  with  him.  Mebbe 
he  ain't  sech  a  fool  as  he  looks.  You  see,  he  knows 
Timothy  wants  to  run  away  and  don't  want  to  be 
found  'n'  clapped  into  a  'sylum,  'n'  nuther  does  he. 
And  not  bein'  sure  o'  your  intentions,  he  ain't 
a-goin'  to  give  hisself  away  ;  that 's  the  way  I  size 
Mr.  Rags  up!" 

"  Nice    doggy,  nice  doggy  !  "   shuddered   Miss 


64  FINDING   A   HOME 

Vilda,  as  Rags  precipitated  himself  upon  her  again. 
"  Show  me  where  Timothy  is,  and  then  we  '11  go 
back  home  and  have  some  nice  bones.  Run  and 
find  your  little  master,  that 's  a  good  doggy  !  " 

It  would  be  a  clever  philosopher  who  could 
divine  Rags's  special  method  of  logic,  or  who  could 
write  him  down  either  as  foolish  or  wise.  Suffice  it 
to  say  that,  at  this  moment  (having  run  in  all  other 
possible  directions,  and  wishing,  doubtless,  to  keep 
on  moving),  he  ran  round  the  wood-pile  ;  and  Miss 
Vilda,  following  close  behind,  came  upon  a  little 
figure  stretched  on  a  bit  of  gray  blanket.  The  pale 
face  shone  paler  in  the  moonlight  ;  there  were 
traces  of  tears  on  the  cheeks  ;  but  there  was  a 
smile  on  his  parted  lips,  as  if  his  dream-mother  had 
rocked  him  to  sleep  in  her  arms.  Rags  stole  away 
to  Jabe  (for  even  dogs  have  some  delicacy),  and 
Miss  Vilda  went  down  on  her  knees  beside  the 
sleeping  boy. 

"  Timothy,  Timothy,  wake  up  !  " 

No  answer. 

"Timothy,  wake  up!  I've  come  to  take  you 
home  ! " 

Timothy  woke  with  a  sob  and  a  start  at  that 
hated  word,  and  seeing  Miss  Vilda  at  once  jumped 
to  conclusions. 

"Please,  please,  Miss  Vildy,  don't  take  me  to 
the  Home,  but  find  me  some  other  place,  and  I  '11 
never,  never  run  away  from  it ! " 


FINDING   A   HOME  65 

"  Don't  worry,  Timothy,  I  've  come  to  take  you 
back  to  your  own  home  at  the  White  Farm." 

It  was  too  good  to  believe  all  at  once.  "  Nobody 
wants  me  there,  —  I  heard  you  say  so,"  he  said. 

"Everybody  wants  you  there,"  replied  Miss  Vilda, 
with  a  softer  note  in  her  voice  than  anybody  had 
ever  heard  there  before.  "  Samantha  wants  you, 
Gay  wants  you,  and  Jabe  is  waiting  out  here  with 
Maria,  for  he  wants  you." 

"  But  do  you  want  me  ?  "  faltered  the  boy. 

"  I  want  you  more  than  all  of  'em  put  together, 
Timothy  ;  I  want  you,  and  I  need  you  most  of  all," 
cried  Miss  Vilda,  with  the  tears  coursing  down  her 
withered  cheeks;  "and  if  you'll  only  forgive  me 
for  hurtin'  your  feelin's  and  makin'  you  run  away, 
you  shall  come  to  the  White  Farm  and  be  my  own 
boy  as  long  as  you  live." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Vildy,  darling  Miss  Vildy !  are  we 
both  of  us  adopted,  and  are  we  truly  going  to  live 
with  you  all  the  time  and  never  have  to  go  to  the 
Home? "  Whereupon,  the  boy  flung  his  arms  round 
Miss  Vilda's  neck ;  and  in  that  childlike  embrace 
of  gratitude  and  confidence  and  joy,  the  stone  was 
rolled  away,  once  and  forever,  from  the  sepulchre 
of  Miss  Vilda's  heart,  and  Easter  morning  broke 
there. 


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